
Class _JEJL 


Book 


^J 


CopightN 





COPyRIGHr DEPOSiT: 



e 




5^K^E>*51S 



HOW TO BE HAPPY I 



"By 
GRACE GOLD 



THE LIKE BOOK 

A Casket of Jewels Containing- Gems of Thought 
from the World's Greatest Writers 



Instruction, Counsel and Advice for all Ages, 
covering Every Sphere of Activity from the 
Cradle to the Grave. A Guide to the Young 
and a Comfort to the Old. Extracts from the 
World's greatest Poets, Orators and Authors ; 
Poems that inspire and enthuse, that instruct, 
encourage and uplift, teaching correct habits 
and How to he Happy and to Enjoy Life 



FULL-PAGE HALFTONE FRONTISPIECE 




£5 \** N 



<|UESARYofOefc3RE3S 

Two Copies h'ecc;*-_. 

FEB 15 1908 

(CLASS A, . XXc, *o.. 
SOPY 3. 









Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1908, 

By William H. Lee, 

in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at 

Washington, D. C. 



Copyrighted, 1901, by Mrs. Maria Frink. 



OFFERED TO THE TRADE 
FOR THE FIRST TIME 

Subscription Edition Originally 
$2.50 



PREFACE 



^LL parents desire their children to be happy. 
/\No matter how bitter their own life has been, or how 
much anguish their own hearts have known they desire 
their offspring to escape these sorrows and would gladly see 
them placed where they could obtain peace, prosperity and hap- 
piness. 

The author of this work does not claim she has discovered 
a new method whereby one can step from misery to happiness 
at a single bound, but she does claim there are certain laws 
which govern our lives for good or evil as we will, and in a 
sense we make our own destiny. 

Happiness is what we are all seeking ; but alas, how few find, 
or finding, are able to retain it. 

To be truly happy one must be loved; and to be loved, one 
must be lovable ; and again, to be lovable one must in some way 
be useful ; must possess something valuable in the eyes of others. 
It is the object of this book to give information, which, if stud- 
ied and practiced will enable one to become so useful and lov- 
able that their society will be sought, others benefitted, pros- 
perity will come and they will in spite of circumstances or sur- 
roundings live a truly beautiful life. 



No pains have been spared to compile this valuable collection, 
many of the selections being productions of the most celebrated 
writers. 

Credit has been given each one so far as they were known, 
but no hesitancy has been felt in using an article whose merit 
justifies its being placed in this work, although the author was 
unknown; for we fully believe that all whom God has blessed 
with the wonderful gift of touching human hearts would be 
willing to have their compositions placed where they may be the 
means of encouraging, elevating and purifying humanity. 

THE AUTHOR. 



Self-Reliance 15 

"Brick" Pomeroy's Advice to a Boy 17 

Don't Give In 18 

The Next One is Mine 19 

Do Something 20 

Two Little Old Ladies 21 

Let Him Prove It 21 

This Life Is What We Make It 24 

The Life Book 25 

Live for Something 26 

A Worker's Prayer 27 

Cultivate Refinement 28 

The Way of the World 29 

Rest in Heaven 30 

Wait 31 

Wanted, a Career 32 

How to Be Happy 33 

How to Live Well 34 

Stand for the Truth 34 

Self Examination 36 

Commit Thy Way to God 37 

Making the Bench 38 

The Boys Who Will Win 39 

Doing Another's Duty 39 

About Good Manners 40 

If We Knew , 42 

How to Keep a Situation 43 

A Working Man's Tribute to Papers ..».*, 44 

7 



Mothers as Sweethearts 45 

Read 45 

The Unsown Seed 47 

Sweet Words 48 

He Chose This Path for Thee 51 

Wait . . 52 

Look Higher Up 53 

For Love's Sake 55 

What's Done for God Can Never Die 57 

What Became of a Lie 58 

Only the Present 59 

Little Tangles 61 

Why Some Don't Work 62 

No Honest Labor Should Bring Shame 62 

Real Friends 64 

Courage 65 

Be Content 66 

The Sculptor Boy 67 

Long Life , . . . 67 

Sincerity Not Sufficient ,-, . 68 

He Did His Duty 68 

A Receipt for Happiness 70 

Doing His Will 71 

The Garden of Roses 72 

Patience With the Living 73 

A Loving Heart 74 

Familiarities of Young Girls 75 

What to Teach the Boys 76 

Mind 77 

Parting 78 

Advice to Little Ones 78 

All Required 79 

Seven Good Rules 79 

Two Sides to a Question 80 

The Battle of Life , 82 

Never Too Old to Learn 83 

The Shepherd's Appeal 85 

Woman's Influence 86 

After 87 

Good Advice , 87 

Be Kind to Mother .- .■ 89 

The True Peacemaker 90 

8 



Business is Business 90 

Don't Marry a Man to Reform Him 94 

God's Call 96 

The Cruse that Faileth Xot 97 

Don't Get Sour 98 

True Politeness 99 

Never Be Idle 100 

Faith 101 

How to Do Good 102 

Comfort one Another 103 

Your History .- 104 

The Brain 105 

Wind Is Not Work 105 

How Do You Do 106 

Because She Was Blind 107 

The Lion Path 108 

Aim High 109 

Watch Your Words no 

Personal Work in 

Responsibilities 113 

Keep Busy 114 

After All* 115 

Worth Remembering 116 

Wants of Daily Life 116 

Obedience 117 

Stepping on a Shadow 117 

To-morrow's Burden 118 

The Art of Self-Defense 119 

God Wants Our Love 119 

The Cross and the Crown 120 

A Few Table "Don'ts" 121 

A Woman's Face 122 

All for the Best 122 

The Useful Girl 124 

His Own 125 

Conquering Defeat 126 

Nobility 127 

Face to Face With Trouble 128 

In His Steps 130 

Patience in Waiting 131 

Macauley's Tribute to His Mother 132 

My Strength 133 

9 



A Catechism 134 

Trust in God and Do the Right 135 

Strength of Character 136 

Home First 137 

In a World of Work 138 

Building 138 

A Holy Life 140 

The Sin of Omission 140 

To Achieve True Success 142 

The Songs of Home 143 

Step by Step 144 

To Young Men 145 

She Knew the Author 147 

Forgiveness 148 

Mother's Way 149 

Whatever You do, do Cheerfully 150 

Ability and Opportunity 151 

It Cannot Be Done 153 

Her Head Got Turned 154 

They Were all Poor Boys 155 

Only One Mother 156 

Overwork and Underwork 157 

Visit Your Parents 158 

Acquiescence in the Divine Will 159 

A Worthy Ambition 160 

The Earnest Preacher 161 

Home and Heaven 162 

"Jesus Loves Me" 164 

Nothing to Pay 165 

Smiles 166 

Advice 167 

Just One Day 168 

Old Friends 168 

Our Mission 170 

Glass Number One 173 

Labor Before Rest 174 

Cheerfulness 176 

Worthy of Note 177 

Christmas Gifts 178 

The New Church 179 

Is Life Worth Living ' 180 

Help That Comes Too Late 181 

IO 



Gentleness is Christ-Likeness 182 

Industry , 183 

Your Best Always 184 

A Hand Shake at the Door 186 

The Burden 187 

Live for Something 188 

Broad Road 189 

A Friendly Hand 190 

Some Kisses and Smiles 191 

Thoughts for Mothers 192 

Bear the Cross You Have 193 

An Arab Saying 194 

Reckless Frankness 195 

True Rest 196 

Stand for the Right 197 

Woman is Man's Best Friend 198 

Our Best 198 

Good Humor 200 

What Came of Smartness 201 

Order 204 

Heroism at Home 205 

The Way to Reform is to Reform 206 

Every Day a Little 207 

Tis Easy to Labor 208 

The Revenue Gain 209 

I Will Be Good 210 

Not Alone 211 

Keep at It 211 

Making Sunshine 212 

God's Arm is Law 213 

If We Knew 213 

A Wife's Soft Answer 214 

Let Us Help Ourselves 215 

Just One Thing 217 

Memorial Day 218 

When a Wise Woman Smiles 219 

God's Will is Best 220 

Don't Look Back 221 

Faith's Rest 221 

An Old Proverb 223 

Whatever is, Is Best 224 

Labor 225 

11 



Have Patience 226 

Preventive Mercies 227 

New Every Morning 228 

The Right Road 230 

A Soft Answer 230 

How to Grow Beautiful 231 

Labor and Capital 233 

A Curbstone Scene 234 

A Sermonette on Etiquette 236 

Learning a Business 237 

The Word She Remembered 239 

One Source of Evil 240 

Life's Threshold 241 

Strength in Weakness 242 

Just Where You Are 243 

If I Were a Girl 243 

An American Ideal 246 

By Fits and Starts 247 

Solid Truth 248 

Creeping Up the Stairs 249 

Mystery 251 

Poverty and Ambition 253 

Struggle 253 

The Rights of Other People 255 

The Post of Danger 256 

Patience 257 

Keep it to Yourself 258 

Pray for Power 259 

Your Neighbor's Motes 259 

A Reconciliation 260 

Not Luck , But Work 261 

Troubles and Trials Never Cease 262 

What All Can Do 262 

A Brighter Morrow 263 

A Wife's Lucky Accident 264 

Be Up and Doing 265 

How to Make Children Lovely 265 

Tell Jesus 266 

If I Were a Boy 267 

An Open Stand 269 

When Silence is Golden 270 

Trust and Rest 270 

12 



No Money in It 271 

When Shall We Win 271 

Learn to Talk 272 

Charity 2^2 

Nice Discrimination of Words 274 

Every One Can Help 274 

Growing Old 275 

Systematic Saving 277 

Broken Hearts 279 

Why Will You 280 

Keeping His Word 282 

The Girl Who Works 282 

The Grumbler 283 

A House to Let 284 

Come to Christ 284 

If I Had Known 286 

Obeying Pleasantly 287 

The Bondage of Love 288 

A Customer Secured 290 

Give a Hand to Your Brother 291 

Advice of a Queen 292 

Cumbered With Serving 294 

Child of Sorrow 296 

The Hidden Talent 297 

What a Little Girl Did 297 

A Commonplace Child 298 

The Price of a Drink 299 

No Common People 301 

My Crown 301 

What to Teach Our Daughters 302 

They Failed to Observe 303 

Praying for More Faith 304 

The Mortgage on the Farm 305 

God's Love 307 

Judge Not 308 

Character is Capital 309 

He Doeth All Things Well 310 

The Folly of Flattery 311 

Let God Control 312 

The Highly Finished Ax 312 

Has It 314 

Be True t . , , 314 

13 



The Devil's Four Servants 316 

Fear .316 

What I Love 317 

Life 319 

What an Unhealthy Book Will Do 320 

The Present Need 321 

If It Depends On You 322 

Tiresome 323 

Press On 324 

Thankfulness 325 

Humility 326 

Unsatisfied 326 

Words of Counsel to Young Converts 327 

As You Go Through Life 328 

Keep Steadily On 329 

Queen or Wife? 330 

A Belief in God 331 

The Sun and the Wind 331 

LIST OF AUTHORS, 333 



H 




And they will learn to climb my knee at even. 




y^ou<ui. 



SElifF-REMRMGE, 

ELF-RELIANCE is rarely a gift; it is the excep- 
tion when one is born with that noble self-reliant 
spirit that makes it easy to act without suggestion 
from another. 

How often does the thinker remark after reading or 
hearing a good discussion, that the same thing had 
often come flitting through his own mind, but he did 
not think he could give it intelligent expression. Still 
he finds in it no word that is not in his own vocabu- 
lary, no sentence that he does not readily understand, 
and no thought that has not entered his own mind 
many times. 

To-day he dismisses a thought because it is his own, 
and to-morrow is delighted upon finding the same ex- 
pressed by another. 

There comes a time in the life of every thoughtful 
one when he invoices his qualities and abilities, and too 
often makes one of two great mistakes — under-value- 
ing, or over-estimating his own worth ; either of which 
will render him less happy and put him farther from 
the best success. 

It is not easy to know one's self thoroughly and then 
act to bring the best results; but unless we have a 
knowledge of self, and act accordingly, our qualities 
may be wrongly named. 

Courage is apt to be mistaken for boldness, self- 

i5 



self-reliance. 

confidence for egotism, sympathy for selfishness, and 
godliness for a hypocrite's cloak. 

But there is a quality that scatters doubts and fears 
and makes a firm footing on which its possessor may 
stand. 

Self-reliance — that element of nature which con 
stantly whispers to its owner, "you are wedded to your 
self for better, for worse, so long as you live. You 
have a nature which the world not only does not know 
but can never know as you, and the Omnipotent power 
who made it, know and loves it." 

Each with himself must live most, and the happiness 
and success of that life will be measured by his wealth 
of self-reliance. 

The greatest difference between people is their dif- 
ferent way of trying to obtain the same results. 

How often may people be seen looking frowningly 
for a smile. They forget that looking into the face of 
another their own countenance is reflected. 

Rely upon yourself for smiles, love, or any thing else 
you desire. 

The world returns only what she receives. 

— Marie Whitacre. 



"Each day, each week, each month, each year, is a 
new chance given you by God. A new chance, a new 
leaf, a new life, — this is the golden, the unspeakable 
gift which each new day offers to you." 



16 



••brisk" ?@mnm'B mum 7© « bby. 

||I||I||Y boy, do you realize that each year the grave 
fljSffl i s nearer you than ever before — that unless you 
"**"" are active, the season of life will close before 
even half of your self-allotted contract will have been 
performed, unless, like too many people, you have no 
aim, no hope, no ambition beyond picking your teeth 
after dinner? Half of the world, yes, more than half, 
go to the reception room of eternity without any ob- 
ject in life — as driftwood floats down the stream, guid- 
ed by the current, and lodging against the first ob- 
struction. And what is driftwood my boy? Once in 
a while a good stick of timber is found therein but it 
is generally more work to haul it out, clean off the 
sand and mud, than it is worth; and more time and 
tools are spoiled in making it into what you wish than 
the stick will ever bring, even in an active market. 

Have a purpose, my boy. Live for something. 
Make up your mind what you will be, and come to the 
mark, or die in the attempt. This is a land where 
there is no stint to ambition. All have an equal chance. 
Blood tells, pluck wins, honor and integrity well di- 
rected will scale the highest rock, and bear a heavy load 
to its top. Do not start off in life without knowing 
where you are going. Load for the game you are hunt- 
ing. It is as easy to be a man, as to be a mouse. It 
is as easy to have friends as enemies — it is easier to 
have them both than to go through life like a tar bucket 

17 



DON'T Ql FE IY. 



under a wagon, bumping over stumps, or swinging 
right and left, without a will of your own. Everyone 
can be something. There is enough to do. There are 
forests to fell, rivers to explore, cities to build, rail- 
roads to construct, inventions yet to be studied out, 
ideas to advance, men to convert, countries to con- 
quer, women to love, offices to be filled, wealth and 
position to acquire, a name to win, a Heaven to reach. 
Yes, my boy, there is lots of work to do, and you and 
I must do our share." 



D0NT GIVE W* 

IJOYS, when troubles crowd upon you 
H"| (You'll find plenty in this life), 

And when fortune seems to flout you, 
And you 're weary with the strife; 
Then's the time to show your metal; 

Keep your heads up; don 't give in; 
Face the trouble, grasp the nettle, 
And determine you will win. 

What's the good of turning craven? 

That will never gain the fight, 
That will bring you to no haven 

Of success and calm delight. 
No, boys, no! Be up and doing, 

Put your shoulder to the task! 
Fortune's shy, and needs pursuing 

If within her smile you'd bask. 

— SOMERVILI E GlBNEY. 



iS 



7^EXT@NMSWME. 

FEW yea rs ago a fire broke out in a little village 
destroying several business places, and a large 
"^number of dwellings. 

Brave men fought the flames even at the peril of 
their lives, but many were homeless before the cruel 
flames were extinguished. 

During the fire a certain man was noticed to take a 
sudden interest in preventing the spread of it, and be- 
gan directing all his energies to the saving of an old 
house that no one else seemed to care to save when so 
many better ones were in danger. 

How hard he worked, carrying wet carpets, blankets, 
and water, doing everything he could to prevent it 
from burning, and begged others to help save it. He 
was told to let it alone, it could not be saved. 

At last one called out in a reproving voice to know 
why he was so foolish! 

The answer came in a tone never to be forgotten by 
those who heard it. 

' ' The next one is mine. " 

Oh, I thought, how interested people get when things 
come so near home ! 

How unconcerned they are when some mother's 
heart is crushed over the son who comes reeling home! 
How they laugh when one boy cheats another, or one 
man knocks another down; when somebody' s daughter 
has fallen, or someone who has held a high position 
suddenly meets with reverses ! 

19 



DO SOMETHING, 

How is it when it comes home? 

How little some seem to care for the evils of the 
saloon in their midst so long as their son has not yet 
been drawn in, or the house of ill-fame, so long as 
their daughter has not been enticed. 

Oh that men would wake up to their responsibility 
of the evils in their midst, and help prevent the spread 
of it before they have to exclaim in anguish, ' Hhe next 
one is mine." 



00 60jnEW& 

fOU cannot set the world right, or the times, but 
you can do something for the truth, and all you 
~^ can do will certainly tell if the work is for the 
Master, who gives you your share, and so the burden 
of responsibility is lifted off. This assurance makes 
peace, satisfaction, and repose possible even in the 
partial work done upon the earth. Go to a man who 
is carving a stone for a building; ask him where is that 
stone going, to what part of the temple, and how he is 
going to get it in its place; and what does he do? He 
points you to the builder's plans. So, when men shall 
ask where and how is your little achievement going 
into God's great plan, point them to the Master, who 
keeps the plans, and then go on doing your little service 

as faithfully as if the whole temple were yours to build. 

Philip Brooks. 



20 



TW0 mtt^e 0L0 l/^es. 

? WO little old ladies, one grave, one gay, 
^flffi In the self-same cottage lived day by day. 

One could not be happy, "because," she said, 
So many children were hungry for bread ; " 
And she really had not the heart to smile, 
When the world was so wicked all the while. 

The other old lady smiled all day long 
As she knitted, or sewed, or crooned a song. 
She had not time to be sad, she said, 
When hungry children were crying for bread. 
So she baked, and knitted, and gave away, 
And declared the world grew better each day. 

Two little old ladies, one grave, one gay ; 
Now which do you think chose the wiser way ? 

— Maud Merrill. 



let HP PR0VE ij. 

f? HE most complete and satisfactory prosperity is 
|f that enjoyed by the individual who has earned 
^ his good fortune by his own efforts. It may ap- 
pear like a herculean undertaking for a young man to 
go forth into the great, grasping, jostling world and 
fight the battle of life unassisted, but such a course is 
the one that leads generally to the most enduring suc- 
cess. 

1 ' If more fathers would take a course with their sons 
similar to the one my father took with me," observed 

21 



LET HIM PROVE IT. 



one of the leading business men of Boston, "the boys 
might think it hard at the time, but they'd thank them 
in after life." 

"What sort of a course ? " was asked. 

"Well, I was a young fellow of twenty-two, just 
out of college, and I felt myself of considerable im- 
portance. I knew my father was well off, and my head 
was full of foolish notions of having a good time and 
spending lots of money. Later on I expected my 
father to start me in business, after I 'd swelled 'round 
a while at the clubs and with fine horse-flesh. 

* ' Like a wise man, father saw through my folly, and 
resolved to prevent my self-destruction, if possible. 

" ' If the boy's got the right stuff in him, let him 
prove it/ I heard father say to mother one day, 'I 
worked hard for my money, and I don't intend to let 
Ned squander it, and ruin himself besides.' 

"That very day father came along and handed me 
fifty dollars, remarking, ' Ned, take that money, spend 
it as you choose, but understand this much: it's the 
last dollar of my money you can have till you prove 
yourself capable of earning money and taking care of 
it on your own account.' 

1 ' I took the money in a sort of dazed manner, and 
stammered out, ' I — why — I — I — want to go into bus- 
iness. ' 

" ' Business! ' exclaimed father, contemptuously, 
'what do you know about managing the mercantile 
business? Get a clerkship and learn the alphabet be- 
fore you talk to me about business.' Then he left me 



22 



LET HIM PROVE IT, 

to ponder on his words. And that fifty dollars was 
the last money my father gave me, till at his death I 
received my part of the property. 

' ' I felt hard and bitter at the time I received the 
fifty dollars; felt my father was a stingy old fogy; and 
mentally resolved to prove to him that I could live 
without his money. He had roused my pride — just 
what he intended, I suppose. 

"For three days I looked about for a place to make 
' lots of money. ' But I found no such chance, and at 
length, I accepted a clerkship in a large retail store at 
four hundred dollars a year. 

" Another bit of my father's 'stinginess' at this 
time was demanding two dollars a week for my board 
through that first year. 

"At the end of my first year I had laid aside two 
hundred dollars, and next year my salary being raised 
one hundred dollars, I had five hundred laid by. 

' ' One hundred cents meant more to me in those 
days than one hundred dollars had, previously. 

" At the end of four year's clerking, I went to my 
father with fifteen hundred dollars of my own, and 
asked him if he was willing to help me enter business. 
Even then he would only let me hire the money, two 
thousand dollars, at 6 per cent, interest. 

"To-day I am called a successful business man. 
And I have my father to thank for it. Those lessons 
in self-denial, self-respect and independence which he 
gave me, put the manhood into me. 

"Years afterwards, father told me it cost him the 

23 



THIS LIFE IS WHAT WM MAKE IT, 



hardest struggle of his life to be so hard with his boy. 
But he felt it was the only course to make a man of 
me. Many a time we 've laughed over that two dollar 
board bilL" 



7W§ MFE 18 WHAT WE WW 1T. 

|| ET'S of tener talk of noble deeds, 
And rarer of the bad ones, 
And sing about our happy days, 
And not about the sad ones. 
We are not made to fret and sigh, 

And when grief sleeps to wake it : 
Bright happiness is standing by — 
This life is what we make it. 

Let's find the sunny side of men, 

Or be believers in it ; 
A light there is in every soul 

That takes the pains to win it. 
Oh ! there's a slumbering good in all ; 

And we perchance may wake it ; 
Our hands contain the magic wand — 

This life is what we make it. 

Then here's to those whose loving hearts 

Shed light and joy about them ! 
Thanks be them for countless gems 

We ne 'er had known without them. 
Oh ! this should be a happy world 

To all who may partake it : 
The fault's our own if it is not — 

This life is what we make it. 



24 




the mpe mm. 

|AMMA, if I were a woman, 
If I knew as much as you, 
i|p^ I would write a book," said Lillie, 
" And I'd write it good and true, 

"I would make it just like talking, 
As you talked to me last night, 

So that every one who read it 
Would love Jesus and do right." 

" Every one, my love," said mamma, 
11 Must at least one book compose ; 

Each must write his own life story, 
From its drawing to the close. 

"On a new unwritten volume, 
Pure and spotless to the sight, 

Loving ones confer a title, — 
Baby hands begin to write. 

"All through babyhood and childhood, 
Youth, mid-life and trembling age, 

Still those hands are writing, writing, 
Never lifting from the page. 

" Every word and every action, 
Rude or gentle, wrong or right, 

In its ugliness or beauty, 

Live upon those pages white. 

"Every deed of love and mercy, 
Shines upon those leaflets fair, 

And if one has loved the Saviour 
All his love is written there." 

25 



MVE F0R S0METH1MS, 

HOUS AN DS of men breathe, move and live ; 
pass off the stage of life and are heard of no 
more. Why ? They did not a particle of good 
in the world ; and none were blest by them ; none could 
point to them as the instruments of their redemption ; 
not a line they wrote, not a word they spoke, could be 
recalled, and so they perish — their light went out in 
darkness, and they are not remembered more than the 
insect of yesterday. Will you thus live and die, O 
man immortal ? Live for something. Do good and 
leave behind you a monument of virtue that the storm 
of time can never destroy. 

Write your name by kindness, love and mercy, on 
the hearts of the thousands you come in contact with 
year by year, and you will never be forgotten. No ; 
your name will be as legible on the hearts you leave 
behind as the star on the brow of the evening Good 
deeds will shine as bright as the stars of heaven. 

—Dr. Chalmers. 



fHERE is no life so humble that if it be true and 
genuinely human and obedient to God, it may 
not hope to shed some of His light. There is no 
life so meager, that the greatest, and wisest of us all 
can afford to despise it. We cannot know at what 
moment it may flash forth with the life of God. 

26 



K WORKER'S PRPYER, 

( ' For I have received of the Lord that which also I 
delivered unto you." 

§ORD, speak to me, that I may speak 
In living echoes of Thy tone ; 
As thou hast sought, so let me seek 
Thy erring children, lost and lone. 

O lead me, Lord, that I may lead 

The wandering and the wavering feet ; 

O feed me, Lord, that I may feed 

Thy hungering ones with manna sweet. 

strengthen me, that while I stand 
Firm on the rock, and strong in Thee, 

1 may stretch out a loving hand 

To wrestlers in the troubled sea. 

O teach me, Lord, that I may teach 

The precious things Thou dost impart ; 

And wing my words, that they may reach 
The hidden depths of many a heart. 

O give Thine own sweet rest to me 

That I may speak with soothing power 

A word in season, as from Thee 
To weary ones in needful hour. 

O fill me with thy fullness, Lord, 

Until my very heart o'erflow 
In kindling thought and glowing word, 

Thy love to tell, Thy praise to show. 

O use me, Lord, use even me, 

Just as Thou wilt, and when, and where ; 

Until thy blessed face I see, 

Thy rest, thy joy, thy glory share. 

- Frances Ridley Havergal. 

27 



GUMWTE REpWJftE&q 7 . 

? gO not draw into your shell. So much is to be 
gained by contact with the outside world. The 
influence of the social current has the same effect 
upon human nature as that produced by the constant 
friction of the sea upon the pebbles on the beach. 
Rough corners are polished and angles smoothed down 
into symmetrical proportions. But it is not enough to 
be simply in the swim. If you wish to be happy, cul- 
tivate that society which elevates and ennobles. Seek 
relaxation for mind and body among a set of people 
who hold broad views of living. Narrow-minded men 
and women, and the world is full of them, will only 
give you distorted ideas of life, ideas that will change 
the sunniest and most healthful disposition into one 
morose, churlish and ill-natured. Be careful then, 
whom you choose for your companions. 



^OD gives a great many people only one talent be- 
cause he wants them for plain, common work. 
But whatever our talents may be, they are just 
what God has given us, and they are just the talents 
we need for the special work which God has assigned 
to us. And if we use our gifts and fill our places, 
however humble and lowly, we shall be noble. Who 
will say that the lowly, modest daisy is not as noble in 
its own place and sphere, as the tall, proud oak ? 
Nobleness consists in being what God meant us to be, 
and doing what He gives us to do. 

28 



7HEW«Y0p THEWBRiiD. 



%AUGH, and the world laughs with ycm, 

L-4? Weep, and you weep alone ; 
^ For this brave old earth 

Must borrow its mirth, 
It has trouble enough of its own. 

Sing, and the hills will answer ; 
Sigh, and 'tis lost on the air ; 

The echoes rebound 

To a joyful sound, 
But shrink from voicing care. 

Rejoice, and men will seek you ; 
Grieve and they will turn and go ; 

They want full measure 

Of all your pleasure, 
But they do not want your woe. 

Be glad, and your friends are many ; 
Be sad, and you will lose them all ; 

There are none to decline 

Your nectared wine, 
But alone you must drink life's gall. 

Feast, and your halls are crowded i 
Fast, and the world goes by ; 

Succeed and give, 

And it helps you to live, 
But it cannot help you to die. 

There is room in the halls of pleasure 
For a long and lordly train ; 

But one by one 

We must all file on 
Through the narrow isles of pain. 

—Anon. 

29 



RES? W HESVEM. 



jf HERE are no weary hearts in Heaven, 
No tired, aching feet 
But joys and smiles innumerable, 
As saints each other greet. 

When in the new Jerusalem, 

We'll walk the golden street, 
And sing the praises of our Lord, 

Or sit at Jesus' feet. 

The storms of life which o'er us rise, 

And darken all our way, 
Will not be felt beyond the skies, 

For there 'tis always day. 

There in our Father's home above, 

The dwelling of the blest, 
We '11 meet with loved ones 'round the throne, 

And there forever rest, 

A rest from sin, a rest from toil, 

From suffering and pain ; 
No earthly cares our bliss can mar, 

We'll not return again. 

Toil on, toil on, ye weary ones, 

With grief and sorrow pressed, 
'Tis but a little while below, 

Then joy and endless rest. 

— Mrs. Emma V. Sweeten. 



30 



1SAW the proprietor of a garden standing at his 
fence and call to his poor neighbor. 
" Would you like some grapes? " 

" Yes, and very thankful," was the ready answer. 

"Then bring your basket." 

The basket was quickly handed over the fence. The 
owner took it and disappeared among the vines; and 
I marked that he deposited into it rich clusters from 
the fruitful labyrinth in which he hid himself. The 
woman stood at the fence quiet and hopeful. At 
length he re-appeared with a well-filled basket, saying, 
1 ' I have made you wait a good while, but there is all 
the more grapes." 

It is so, thought I, with the proprietor of all things. 
He says: "What shall I give thee? Ask and thou 
shalt receive." So I bring my empty vessel — my 
needy but capacious soul. He disappears; but lam 
not always so patient and trustful as the poor woman. 
Sometimes I cry out, " How long! how long! " 

At last He comes to me richly laden, and kindly 
chides my impatience, saying: "Have I made thee 
wait long? See what I have treasured up for thee 
all the while." 

Then I look and see fruits richer than I had asked 
for, and I pour out my heart's thanks to my generous 
Benefactor, and grieve that I distrusted him. Surely 
the longer He makes me wait, the more he gives. 



fTO do something," my heart kept repeating — 
"Something so beautiful, noble or fine, 
That bright it should bloom like a Rower in the 
desert ; 
That clear like a star in the night it should shine 1 

Then I looked in the sky ; 'twas a-quiver already 
With star upon star, through the glittering night ; 

I looked o'er the land, 'twas a-flutter with flowers ; 
What need of my wee one to make it more bright ? 

Then I looked in my heart, and I saw 'mid its motives 
What from my own vision I gladly would hide ; 

Commingled with longings for art and for beauty, 
Ah ! much of admiration, of envy, of pride ! 

Then I looked where no star-beam e'er com es penetrating, 
Where the flow'rs are crushed out in the unceasing strife, 

The pitiful struggle for merest existence 

That mockery makes of the thing we call life ! 

And I gave to a child that was wailing with hunger, 
The comfort, the beauty of every- day bread : 

To a soul that was starving for sympathy's music 
A commonplace word of encouragement said. 

O, rich this new field for my thought and my labor, 
And soothed was my longing for beauty and art, 

For a flower sweetly bloomed on my own barren pathway, 
A star softly rose in my own shadowed heart ! 

— Margarite C. Moors. 



32 



HOW p BE MapPY. 

RE you almost disgusted 
With life, little man ? 
. I will tell you a wonderful trick 
That will bring you contentment, 

If anything can — ■ 
Do something for somebody, quick ; 
Do something for somebody, quick ! 

Are you awfully tired 

With play, little girl ? 
W T eary, discouraged, and sick ? 
I'll tell you the loveliest 

Game in the world — 
Do something for somebody, quick ; 
Do something for somebody, quick ! 

Though it rains like the rain 

Of the flood, little man, 
And the clouds are forbidding and thick, 
You can make the sun shine 

In your soul, little man — 
Do something for somebody, quick ; 
Do something for somebody, quick ! 

Though the skies are like brass 

Over head, little girl, 
And the walk like a well heated brick ; 
And are earthly affairs 

In a terrible whirl ! 
Do something for somebody, quick ! 
Do something for somebody, quick ! 



33 



tfBW P MVE WELL 

iH, this is a subject of interest to everybody. This 
t is the constant wish of every person of honest 
^^ heart and pure desires. Success or failure in this 
means happiness or misery here, and heaven or hell at 
last. Says a writer : * ' To live well, economy is nec- 
essary." No matter if persons are rich, or have large 
incomes, they should be economical; for to waste is 
wicked. The Master himself taught economy by pre- 
cept and example ; the apostles did the same. The 
first christains led simple and economical lives ; * 'neith- 
er said any of them aught of the things which he pos- 
sessed was his own." They were " bought with a 
price." They and theirs all belonged to their Master, 
and were consecrated to his service. They lived well. 
Reader, if you would live well, go thou and do like- 
wise. 



§ET me advise you to wear no armor for your backs 
when you have determined to follow the track of 
truth. Receive upon your breast-plate of right- 
eousness the sword cuts of your adversaries; the stern 
metal shall turn the edge of your foeman's weapon. 
Let the right be your Lord paramount, and for the 

34 



STAND FOB THE THVTE.* 



rest be free and your own master still. Follow truth 
for her own sake ; follow her in evil report ; let not 
many waters quench your love to her. Bow to no 
customs if they be evil. Yield to no established rules 
if they involve a lie. Do not evil though good should 
come of it. 

(< Consequences ! " This is the devil's argument. 
Leave consequences to God, but do right. If friends 
fail thee, do the right. Be genuine, real, sincere, up- 
right, and godlike. The world's maxim is, trim your 
sails and yield to circumstances. But if you would do 
any good in your generation, you must be made of 
sterner stuff, and help make your times rather than be 
made by them. 

You must not yield to customs ; but, like an anvil, 
endure all the blows until the hammers break them- 
selves. When misrepresented, use no crooked means 
to clear yourself. Clouds do not last long. If in the 
course of duty you are tried by the distrust of friends, 
gird up your loins and say in your heart, I was not 
driven to virtue by encouragement of friends, nor will 
I be repelled from it by their coldness. Finally, be 
just, and fear not ; corruption wins not more than hon- 
esty ; truth lives and reigns when falsehood dies and 
rots. 

— Chas. Spurgeon. 



If you would sleep well, take a clear conscience to 
bed with you. 



35 



|M I full of self or full of spirit ? Am I living and 
working for Christ or self ? Do I preach for rep- 
utation, salary, position, or Christ ? Am I con- 
strained by the love of Christ ? Does my activity 
spring from physical vivacity, nervous force, ambitious 
ends, or is it inspired by supreme love for Christ ? 
Am I zealous of my rights, prerogatives, dignities, or 
am I zealous only for Christ and the salvation of souls? 
Do I preach in deadness to self, no thought of repu- 
tation, only eyeing God's glory and the eternal welfare 
of men ? Do I set God, the judgment, hell, and heav- 
en always before me ? Am I long suffering ? Are 
my sharpest rebukes seasoned with tenderness ? My 
most solemn warning delivered with tears ? Am I 
humble, self-forgetful, prayerful, and holy ? Do the 
people grow in holiness and divine troops under my 
ministry ? Not simply do I get my assessments in 
full, not so many baptized and added to the roll. All 
these things may be done and death prevail. But are 
people advancing in faith, in prayer, in holiness, in 
love ? Is this advance evident and marked ? Is my 
ministry fruitful in this regard ? A nearness to God, 
a fitness for heaven, a growing separation for, and 
antagonism to the world, a freedom from sin, the 
Spirit abounding, the flesh crucified ? 









- 

The 
World s are : Him no load, 

To Kim breathe 
ic : win i 5 and clouds 
3 £ : tin 
Through wastes 

make a way for : 

.d ; 
Hope, and be ui 

be tront 

2 afraid. 

: 

rJJt, 

In h 

rrom the 1 
Lie dreams in gjht 

The crown, 

e :h on the thr : 

And guideth. ali 



vr 



WW1NG THE BEM6H. 

GOOD story is told of a United States senator 
who began life as a carpenter. 

" I will not always be a carpenter," he used to 
declare, for it seemed he had set his heart upon some- 
time entering the legal profession. He did not slight 
his carpenters work for his day dreams of what he 
should do and become, but was noted for his honest, 
conscientious labor. 

One day the young man was planing a board that 
was to become part of a " judge's bench," when a 
friend observing his painstaking, inquired: 

"Why do you take such pains to smooth that 
board?" 

Instantly the young carpenter replied: "Because I 
want a smooth seat when I come to sit on it." 

His friend laughed, and thought the joke so good 
that he reported it in the shop, and the young man 
was bantered not a little about the "judge's bench.' 
He always replied, good-naturedly: 

"Wait and see. He laughs who wins, and I may 
sit there yet." 

And he did ; but the distance between the carpen- 
ter's and judge's bench, was paved with heroic strug- 
gles and self-sacrifice. 



The success of our friends pleases us until it sup 
passes our own, and then we resent it. 

38 



THE BOYS WH0 WILL WIN, 

^.ERE'S to the b: s ready 

T : do their best at their play or work ; 
Nevei afraid, as some are of labor — 
Neva frying a task to sh: 

Never saying. "I cannot dc 

And putting it off '-'till by-and-by 
But facing each task wi:":; - sturdy courage, 

A willing heart, and brave, I J li try." 

e all t;rnd on, 
sh are the boys who will some day win. 
They shut the doors of their hearts and guard them 
vain thoughts that would fain come in. 

illy boys is reckoned, 

They are really men at heart, say I. 
And it makes me glad and proud to see them, 
And the world will be proud of them by-and-by. 



.Z in ev : 
and gesture ; but the pretended is too often 
caught napping, A little girl, shopping with her 
mother one :itring cc *dl >na counter- 

stool g the peoy^ a and out. 

Presently she saw a lady, elegantly dressed, who 
stopped at their counter, and handed a waterproof and 
umbrella to the young girl in charge. 

39 



ABOUT GOOD HAyXERS. 



''Take care of these things till I call for them," she 
said in an autocratic tone, and sailed away. 

The bright eyes of the child followed her. The lit- 
tle face wore a look of distress. 

"Why, mamma," she whispered, "she didn't even 
say 'please V 

Sooner than she expected the lady returned. 

" I will take my things," she said. 

There was some delay in finding them. 

"I hope you haven't lost or misplaced them," she 
said to the young girl in a severe tone. 

Neither misfortune had occurred. The articles were 
found, and taking them without a word, the lady walk- 
ed out. This was more than the child could bear. 
Leaning over so that her sweet face came close to that 
of the clerk, she said graciously, " Thank you ! " 



FB0UIGOOD jftflUNERS. 

ft} ANY women, particularly the more youthful 
ones, commit through carelessness or thought- 
lessness many breaches of good manners which 
need but a reminder to be speedily remedied. To be- 
gin with, the sweet tooth of the average American girl 
tempts her to eat candy in the street and at the thea- 
ters, though she may be quite aware that to do so is 
not good form. The same girl who would scorn to 
eat peanuts and condemns those delicacies as ' 'vulgar, " 
munches away on caramels or buttercups in public 

40 




huh res 5 ol 

amusement. 

M )imgwc men, the best hearted in the world, 

will wound their r hearts by openly correcting 

or contradicting them, forgetting tr- 
ior knowledge does not show up to advantage when 
paraded at the se of good manners. This habit 

on the part of the younger members of s x ;one 

that should be nipped in the bud at once. Suppose 
Eat hfer or moth er ic word 

mis-statement, or fall int: 3r of grammar, e: es 

it rr. :"r: :y e v 

so openly ? The firs: It- 
eration and respect for those rider : t 

refore that, outside of any other i hould 

:t::rain the flippant correction of parents before 
stringers t: 'tis:. 

To discuss your cloth es your se r ants : r y : ur do- 
mestic affairs, is to stair. ill -bred, 
conversation is the only sort tolerate t in the bes: 
cles. Do not talk and laugh theater or other 
places of am us emeut. arm: :h:se ?.stu: : 
turner: t t; : ; :ht ;: e :: ;::.: ate arm u:t your conver- 
sation. Do not stare at people and then c 
so that there is no possibility o: the 
topic of your conversation ; in fact, let cc 
for others be itch word, and ret ine m ent 
code, and your mannt improve steadily under 
such personal discipline. 



M¥ we knew, when walking thoughtless 

J| In the noisy crowded way, 

^ That some pearl of wondrous whiteness 

Close beside our path-way lay, 
We would pause where now we hasten, 

We would often look around, 
Lest our careless feet should trample 
Some rare jewel to the ground. 

If we knew what forms were fainting 

For the shade that we should fling ; 
If we knew what lips were parching 

For the water we could bring, 
We would haste with eager foot-steps, 

We would work with willing hands, 
Bearing cups of cooling water, 

Planting rows of shading palms. 

If we knew when friends around us 

Closely pressed to say good-bye, 
Which among the lips that kissed us 

First would neath the daisies lie, 
We would clasp our arms around them, 

Looking on them through our tears ; 
Tender words of love eternal 

We would whisper in their ears. 

If we knew what lives were darkened 
By some thoughtless word of ours, 

Which had ever lain among them 
Like the frost among the flowers ; 

42 



BOW TO KEEP A BITVAT10K. 

Oh, with what sincere repentings, 
With what anguish of regret, 

While our eyes were overflowing, 
We would cry, Forgive ! Forget ! 

If we knew — alas ! and do we 

Ever care or seek to know 
Whether bitter herbs or roses 

In our neighbor's gardens grow ? 
God forgive us ! lest hereafter 

Our hearts break to hear Him say, 
' ' Careless child, I never knew you, 

From my presence flee away." 



jH0W TO KEEP « SITUATION. 

E ready to throw in an odd half-hour, or an hour's 
* time when it will be an accommodation, and don't 
seem to make a merit of it. Do it heartily. 
Though not a word be said your employer will make 
a note of it. Make yourself indispensible to him and 
he will lose many of the opposite kind before he will 
part with you. Those young men who watch the 
clock to see the very second their working hour is up 
— who leave, no matter what state the work may be 
in, at precisely the instant — who calculate the exact 
amount they can slight their work and yet not get re- 
proved — will always be the first to receive the notice 
when times are dull, that their services are no longer 
required. 



43 



fl W0RK1NGWS tribute to papers. 

WORKING man in this city who was complain- 
j ing of hard times recently was asked how he could 
~^~ afford to take a newspaper. "WelJ," said he, 
" I hope I shall never be too poor to take a paper. I 
thought I was too poor for ten years after I was mar- 
ried. My wife suggested that I take a paper regularly, 
and I did so and it was the most economical stroke of 
my life. It kept me at home, afforded me pleasure 
and instruction and was a comfort to the whole family. 
I had to stop the use of tobacco for a whole year once 
in order to pay for the paper, and the result was that 
I have not cared for tobacco since, and in that one 
item I have saved enough to pay for several papers. 
So long as I have money enough to buy bread with I 
will have money enough to pay for a newspaper. 
There is no man too poor to take a paper. It is the 
cheapest investment he can make, both for himself and 
his family. It is the last expense I will lop off. I 
will drink my tea and coffee without sugar before I 
will miss my paper, I can better afford to do so." 



In the voyage of life we should imitate the ancient 
mariners who, without losing sight of the earth, trusted 

' o o 

to the heavenly signs for their guidance. 



44 



MOTHERS AS SWEETHEARTS. 



jfTHERE is nothing that so pleases the fond mother 
as the gentle ways of a sweetheart in her son. If 

^ he greets her with a smile, throws his arms about 
her and pats her cheek and caresses her in the fond 
ways of an affectionate nature, she may chide him as 
a simple boy and laughingly question the sincerity of 
his demonstrations, but they bring a glow of pleasure 
to her heart that sweeps away the shadows of care 
and makes her the happiest among God's creatures. 
Sons may make friends here and there as they go 
through life as the creatures of destiny, but one who 
never deserts them, never loses faith or abandons 
hope is the mother whose yearning for love he so often 
repels or neglects. 



RE-AD, 

JEAD continually, only reserving such time for re- 
laxation and the duties of life as your situation 
may require. Don't sit with your hands folded 
and mouth open, doing nothing ; these are minutes 
which you are wasting — minutes make hours, hours 
makes days and weeks, and all combined are swiftly 
flying towards eternity. Then read ! — read everything 
and anything, except low and trashy subjects ; there 

45 



^^^^^^™ 



RBJB. 

is no branch of art or science, or of literature, from 
which, properly perused, you may not get some valu- 
able information. 

The difference between the reader and the sluggard, 
who sits in the easy-chair asleep in the evening, is as 
great as the contrast between a fool and a sensible per- 
son ; the former goes about the world, sees, hears, 
thinks and digests the results of his observation during 
his travels ; he will presently give these reflections to 
the world in a new and interesting shape, and thus 
make other readers. But the sluggard is a useless 
character and not worth the ink to describe him. 

Read an almanac, if you cannot get a paper ; and he 
must be poor indeed, as the bard singeth, who cannot 
afford a subscription to some journal in this age of the 
world. At all events, leave no means untried to culti- 
vate and improve the spare hours which you will have 
during the winter months. If you are waiting some- 
where on business, take out your paper and peruse its 
columns ; you will soon find the advantage of the prac- 
tice. 

Time shall overwhelm all things, and render mines 
useless, gems of no value. The thief may in an hour 
destroy the labor of a lifetime in accumulating a fortune, 
but no power, short of a Divine one, can wrest the 
riches of a well stored mind from its possessor. Again 
we say — read ! 



How long we live, not years but actions tell. 

4 6 



THE Utf80WM SEED. 

J' SAW a garden, in springtime, 
In Prepared with greatest care, 
^ And I thought when comes the summer., 

Rare flowers will be blooming there. 
But summer found in the garden 

Full many a noxious weed, 
With never a flower among them, 

For none had sown the seed. 

I saw a life that gave promise 

Of a harvest rich and rare, 
Had the fertile soil been tended, 

And the seed been planted there. 
Neglected and unplanted — 

O'ergrown with sin's foul weeds — 
**), the flowers we might gather 

Did we only sow the seed ! 

Oh, the precious moments wasted ! 

The deeds of love undone ; 
The bitter thoughts we cherished 

Come back to us one by one ; 
And we sigh for the vanquished spring-time 

Of which we took no heed. 
Oh, the harvest we might gather 

Did we only sow the seed ! 

Had we sown the seeds of virtue, 

Of holy love and truth, 
Of charity and kindness, 

In the springtime of our youth ; 

47 



SWEET WORDS* 

In the autumn we'd have gathered 

A harvest rich and rare — 
A harvest of fragrant flowers 

Been blooming for us there. 

We'd have never cause to murmur 

At the hardness of our lot ; 
Our lives full of contentment — 

In palace or in cot. 
Did we improve the golden springtime, 

Root out each noxious weed — 
What a bountiful harvest waits us, 

Did we only sow the seed ! 

— Clara M. Howard. 



SWEET W0R08. 



BY dearest of Mothers." I heard the words re- 
peated in soft tones by my next door neighbor 
"""^^ at an island farm-house where we were sojourn- 
ing. " My dearest of mothers." My friend was a 
widow, and her son, an affectionate, talented fellow, 
was engineering in Idaho. In one of his late letters 
he had said at the close, "and now, my dearest of 
mothers, good-bye." Did he guess, I wonder, how 
the little petting phrase would please the heart that 
loved him so ? Did he think she would say it over soft- 
ly to herself as she sat alone in her room ? 

The home days were over. The babies with their 
sweet ways, their joy-giving and their trouble-making, 
had grown to noisy boys, then to self-asserting men ; 

48 



SWEET WORDS. 



they were out in the world making their way ; brains 
busy, thoughts absorbed, hearts full ; yet here was one 
who remembered the mother, still in middle life, loving 
and needing love the same as when her boys were her 
very own in the very dear child's home. He wrote her 
long letters, describing his adventurous, changeable 
life ; the strange companions by whom he was sur- 
rounded ; the wondrous scenery of the wild western 
world. It was all intensely enjoyed ; but better than 
all were the loving phrases that showed the son's af- 
fectionate heart. I wonder if the boys know how dear 
they are to their mothers, and how little attentions, 
little gifts, tender words, flying visits, cheer and warm 
the hearts that have borne the test of years and sorrow. 
Life is a little chilly to mothers whose homes are 
things of the past. Even if they remain in the home, 
the rooms seem very bare and silent after the children 
are gone. It is as if summer had flown, with its nest 
and bird-songs, and autumn winds are blowing. Then 
the love of the sons and daughters is like the sunshine 
or warm fires to the hearts that sadly miss them. Let 
us hope there are many sons who write, ' ' My dearest 
of Mothers." 



[ONSIDER your blessings more than your troub- 
les ; look on the bright side of life rather than on 

1 the dark side ; see your neighbor's virtues rather 
than his failings ; speak cheerfully, not despondingly ; 
give thanks instead of grumbling. 

49 



HE SHOSE THIS PRIH F3R THEE. 

,E chose this path for thee, 
No feeble chance, nor hard relentless fate ; 

But love, His love, hath placed thy footsteps here. 
He knew the way was rough and desolate: 

Knew how thy heart would often sink with fear ; 
Yet tenderly He whispered, ' c Child, I see 
This path is best for thee." 

He chose this path for thee, 
Though well He knew sharp thorns would pierce thy feet, 
Knew how the bramble would obstruct thy 

f all the hidden dangers thou would'* 
Knew how thy faith would falter day by day ; 
And still the whisper echoed, "Yes I see 
This path is best for thee." 

He chose this path for thee ; 
And well He knew that thou must tread alone 

Its gloomy vales, and ford each flowing stream ; 
Knew how thy bleeding heart would sobbing moan, 

" Dear Lord, to wake and find it all a dream ! " 
Love scanned it all, yet still could say, " I see 
This path is best for thee." 

He chose this path for thee ; 
E'en while He knew the fearful midnight gloom 
Thy timid, shrinking soul must travel through: 
How towering rocks would oft before thee loom 

And phantoms grim would meet thy frightened view ; 
Still comes the whisper, "My beloved, I see 
This path is best for thee." 

51 



WAIT. 

He chose this path for thee. 
What need'st thou more ? This sweeter truth to know, 

That all along these strange, bewildered ways, 
O'er rocky steeps and where dark rivers flow, 

His loving arm will bear thee " all the day." 
A few steps more, and thou thyself shalt see 
This path is best for thee. 



wag. 

fF not even one little step is plain to us, "ye nexte 
thynge " is to wait. Sometimes that is God's will 
r for us. At least, it is never His will that we shall 
take a step into the darkness. He never hurries us. 
We had better always wait than rush on when we are 
not quite sure of the way. Often in our impatience we 
do rush things, which after a little while were not God's 
" nexte thynge" for us at all. That was Peter's mis- 
take when he cut off a man's ear in the garden, and it 
led to sore trouble and humiliation a little later. There 
are many quick, impulsive people who are continually 
doing '• next things " wrong, and who find their next 
thing trying to undo the last. We must always wait 
for God, and never take a step which He has not made 

light for us. 

—J. R. Mills*. 



The only way to abolish poverty is to dig yourself, 
or get some one to dig for you whose work is worth 
more than his wages. 

52 



L00K HIGHER MP. 




* 



a 



¥ 



tS this the door?" I asked my- 
self, hunting up an address in 
? a bewildering street. "I ought 
to know it." 

"No," I said, "I doubt if this 
is the door." 

I chanced though to look high- 
er up, and there was the name I 
sought after, a name honored, be- 
loved, valued. Looking lower, I 
failed to notice that help. I saw 
it now, standing out in clear, dis- 
tinct letterSo 

A simple incident, but it set me 
busily to thinking. 
There are many of us trying some door of blessing. 
Bewildered, we look and may be disappointed. We 
are in sorrow. It may be the disappointment of afflic- 
tion, of sickness, of business losses. We look along 
the range of human resources and human helps, ever 
seeking some door of peace. Look higher up. Look 
unto the name of Him called " Wonderful." Measur- 
less are His resources, giving a personal presence to 
support us, an individual reconciliation to our losses, 
strength now. Look unto Jesus! 

We are perplexed about duty. But it may not be 



53 



-™ 



■ 



LOOK HIGHEB UP. 



the thing that perplexes so much as the way; not the 
end, but our course to do it. We want wisdom. We 
need advice. We seek it at human lips; we err if we 
stop there. Look higher up! Look unto the name 
of Him called "Counselor." Ask the Savior. Look 
unto Jesus! 

We are tempted. We are weak before the hour of 
decision and helpless after it. We cry, " No man car- 
eth for my soul." Self then shall be the friend show- 
ing sympathy, self the friend that promises the strength 
of its co-operation. ' * Is not this the door ?" some one 
asks. "That door is a snare," we say. No; victory 
has another portal. Look up higher! Look unto Him 
called the " Mighty God." He is able to save from 
sin and save unto holiness. Look higher up unto 
Jesus! 

When the end comes, when our feet may falter in 
death; when our sight may be dim, how precious the 
name of the Unchangeable. One, the same yesterday, 
to-day and forever, His glorious name shining out in 
letters of fire! In the hour of dying may we look on 
high, and looking we shall see, as we pass into the 
Father's house, no more to go out forever. 

HE chief beauty in every mother's face, lies in its 
expression which mirrors the sincerity, the gen- 
^ J tleness, the intelligence within. "Her face," 
says Lovett, " was the benediction of the world, com- 
ing from her true and tender soul." That beauty ev- 
ery woman can gain by a pure and loving life. 

54 



P0R L0VE'8 SPKE, 

OMETIMES I am tempted to murmur 
That life is flitting away, 
With only a round of trifles 
Filling each busy day ; 
Dusting nooks and corners, 

Making the house look fair, 
And patiently taking on me 
The burden of woman's care, 

Comforting childish sorrows, 

And charming the childish heart 
With the simple song and story 

Told with a mother's art; 
Setting the dear home-table, 

And clearing the meal away, 
And going on little errands 

In the twilight of the day. 

One day is just like another ! 

Sewing and piecing well 
Little jackets and trousers 

So neatly that none can tell 
Where the seams and joinings — 

Ah ! — the seamy side of life 
Is kept out of sight by the magic 

Of many a mother and wife. 

And oft when I'm ready to murmur 

That life is flitting away, 
With the selfsame round of duties 

Filling each busy day, 

55 



FOB LOVE'S SAKE. 

It comes to my spirit sweetly, 

With the grace of a thought divine: 

" You are living, toiling for love's sake, 
And loving should ne'er repine. 

"You are guiding the little footsteps 

In the way they ought to walk ; 
You are dropping a word for Jesus 

In the midst of your household talk ; 
Living your life for love's sake 

Till the homely cares grow sweet, 
And sacred the self-denial 

That is laid at the Master's feet." 



MFTEN the most useful Christians are those who 
serve their Master in little things, he never despis- 
es the day of small things, or else he would not 

hide his oaks in tiny acorns, or the wealth of a wheat 

field in bags of little seeds. 

— CUYLER. 



Sin is more to be feared than hell. If people were 
half as anxious to escape the former as they are the 
latter, their lives would be far purer than they are. 

Truth is the property of God ; the pursuit of it is 
what belongs to man. 

Divine love is a sacred flower which in its earthly 
bud is happiness, and in its full bloom is heaven. 

56 



FOR GOD CAN NEVER DIE. 

H^O, ye who spend your strength for naught, 
And loathe what you've so dearly bought, 
Toilers of earth and time and sense 
Oh, what shall be your recompense 
Of all that's done beneath the sky ? 
But this is immortality. 
What's done for earth, fails by and by, 
What's done for God, can never die. 

Ho, ye who join the eager strife, 
For gold, or fame, or pride of life, 
Who pamper lusts of flesh or eye, 
And for the world, with worldlings vie, 
Death will undo your toil so vain 
And leave you no abiding gain. 
What's done for time, ends by and by, 
What's done for God, can never die. 

Mountains may crumble back to dust, 
Scepters and crown deceive our trust 
And fail, desire may perish — lust ; 
By moth, or rust, or thief, or fire, 
Our treasures fail, our hope expire ; 
What's done for sense, fails by and by> 
What's done for God, can never die. 

Then do for God what-e'er you can, 
Omortal, and immortal man ; 
A wasted life, ah me to grieve, 
Eternity cannot retrieve. 
A fruitful life for man and God 
Eternity will well reward. 
Probation ceases by and by, 
What's done for God can never die. 



5/ 



WH^T BEG3ME 0F J\ l:\E. 

flRST, somebody told it. 
Then the room wouldn't hold it 
So the busy tongues rolled it 

_ the crowd came across it, 
And never Mice k 

Till it grew large and wide. 

Fi : r ! lie, Sir. 

Sir. 
it reached to Sir, 

And frightened the moon ; 
For she hid her sweet face. Sir, 
In a veil of cloud-lace, Sir. 
At the dreadful disgrace, Sir. 
That had happened at noon. 

This lie brought forth others, 
Dark sisters and brothers, 
And fathers and mothers — 

rrrible crew ; 
And while headlong they hurried, 
The people they flurried, 
And troubled and worried, 
As lies always do. 

And so, evil boded, 

This monstrous Lie goaded, 

Till at last it exploded 

In smoke and in shame. 
When from mud and from mire 
The pieces flew higher 
And hit the sad liar, 

And killed his good nan: : 

—Mrs. If. A. Kidder 



0NLY ItfE PRESET 

§EFORE me in billowy mist, 
Floats visions of greatness and fame ; 
Deeds of chivalry, kindness, and love^ 
That one day shall make me a name. 
I see great acts of charity 
That some day I shall perform, 
The orphans I'll cheer, the widows relieve. 
And hearts I shall gladden and warm. 

I see myself petted, and loved, 
Respected and courted by all, 
Because I reached out to the needy 
And heeded humanity's call. 
Of course it was only my duty, 
But that doesn't alter the case, 
That people will natter and smile, 
And speak words of praise to my face. 

I smile as I look at the phantom, 
For self is exalted you know ; 
In the future these deeds I shall do, 
No time for them now, oh no ! 
I have work for myself to do, 
I have cares of my own just now, 
But by and by when riches shall come. 
Then all the world before me shall bow. 

For I'll bind the hearts that are broken, 
I'll lift up the helpless and weak, 

59 



ONLY THE PRESENT 

Encourage the weary and feeble, 
And no reward will I seek. 
I will smile on those who look sad, 
I will speak in tones low and sweet, 

Yes, all this in the future I'll do 
When all around me is complete. 

But higher and thicker the mist arose 

Till all was darkness and gloom ; 

Then all at once the light streamed in, 

And a being I knew not whom, 

Came gliding forward and gently said : 

" My child, why dream of future years, 

Unless thou dost the present improve 

It will bring thee nothing but sorrow and tears." 

" Boast not thyself of the future. 
We need thy work just now, to-day, 
Look forth on the fields already white, 
Then up and be doing ! Do not delay ! 
If in other days thy work had been needed, 
In other days thy life had been given. 
This is the time for thee to labor 
For Him whose side for thee was riven." 

The vision fled and I awoke 

To find, alas, it was terribly true 

That I was idling my life away 

"When all around was so much to do. 

With a prayer to Heaven for pardon 

O'er the wasted days long and pleasant, 

I'll arise and work, redeeming the time, 

For, we've only the present ! Only the present ! 



60 






fXCE there was akin il )Ieto 

weave for him. The si] patterns were 

given by the king. He told them when di 
arose they should send for hirn, and never fear troub- 
ling him. 

Among the men and women busy at looms was a 
little child whom the king did not think too young to 
work. Often alone at her work cheerfully and patient- 
iy she labored. One day, when the men and women 
were distressed at the sio-ht of their failures, the silks 
were tangled and the weaving unlike the pattern, they 
gathered around the child and said : " Tell us how it 
is that you are so happy in your work. We are always 
in difficulties." 

"Then why do you not send to the king ?" said the 
little weaver ; " He told us that we might do so." 

" So we do, night and morning." 

"Ah," said the child, "but I send directly when 
I find I have a tangle." 

So let us ail take our wants and troubles to the Lord 
in prayer. He invites us to do so, and promises to 
help us. 



At thirty we are all trying to cut our names in big 
letters upon the walls of this tenement life ; twe 
years later we have carved it, or shut up our jack-kn 

— O. W. Holmes. 

6i 



■ 



WHY SOME D0H7 WORK'. 

ECAUSE they can't have their own way in every- 
thing. 
Because they don't receive abundant applause of 
men for each effort put forth. 

Because some one has misjudged them or perhaps 
unintentionally slighted them. 

Because they have not their eyes open to the good 
they might do if they tried. 

Because they are chronic invalids and live in doubt- 
ing castles, and all their time is occupied complaining 
about themselves and fighting against their doubts. 

Because they are not set on fire by the elements of 
divine love, as God intended, and are in some degree 
in a cold and back-slidden state. 

Because the viper of indifference has got hold of 
them as they have been warming by the world's fire, 
and swollen them up with pride of heart. 



m honest labor should bring shame. 

lONSCIENTIOUS effort raises the most humble 
labor to the highest plane. The shirk is out of 
place in any sphere, and no matter whether his 
work is what the world styles humble or genteel, it is 
belittled by his indolence and want of attention. But 
the individual who makes each effort a complete one, 

62 



NO HONEST LABOR SHOULD BEING SHAMS, 

who looks after the minutest detail with the same fidel- 
ity that a matter of the utmost importance would com- 
mand, renders the most commonplace duty respectable 
and worthy. 

A certain merchant who had commenced life in 
humble circumstances, and by labor and honesty, had 
achieved a striking success, was disputing with a fel- 
low tradesman. 

" You used to drive a delivery wagon for my father, 
and do the sweeping and chores about his store," said 
the other tauntingly. 

"I did," was the reply; "and more than that, I did 
it well." 

No honest labor should bring shame to the person 
who engages in it, save to him who seeks to shirk the 
responsibilities of his calling. Work that is well done 
always commands respect, and proves that the work- 
man is a person of character. 

The man who sees only the dollar and cents at the 
end of his labor is the one who usually leaves his work 
crude and unfinished. 

The pecuniary reward of toil is a great and desirable 
incentive to industry, but there is something in addi- 
tion to this to be desired. 

"To be a successful speaker or writer," says a 
famous thinker, "a man must be of intense spirit, and 
must put part of himself into his discourse." 

The same is also true of workmen in any other sphere 
of activity. To be a successful carpenter, blacksmith, 
teacher, or professional man, one must put his individ - 



REAL FRIENDS. 



uality into his work. He must regard each detail as 
important, and must labor with the thought before him 
that a well-completed task is of itself part of the re- 
ward he shall receive for his labor. The success of the 
individual who works in this spirit, no matter what 
may be his duties, is assured from the beginning. 



i 



RE/lli FRIENDS. 

HE best thing that can happen to a nervous girl 
is to be liked." Leave out the " nervous girl" 
and substitute ' 'anyone," and the aphorism will 
hold good. Real friends are the choicest of posses- 
sions, not only for the superficial pleasures they confer, 
but because of the reflex influence which true affection 
exerts on its object as on its giver. Scores of self-de- 
nying, charitable acts owe their origin to this source. 
A friend who has confidence in your ability inspires 
you to your best endeavors. The admiration of a friend 
increases the self-respect and hence attractiveness of 
the plainest person. Cordial friendship awakens friend- 
ship in return and brightens the darkest period of life. 
It is an easy thing to give friendship, and the poorest 
and the humblest has it in his power to bestow this 
happiness, which is more lasting in its effects and more 
helpful than any other gift. Count over your list of 
friends and determine to increase it. 



64 



HE world is bright to all who dare ; 
The world is sweet to all who do ; 
There comes an answer to the prayer 
Of all who to themselves are true. 

The hill that in the distance glooms, 
On near approach, to smile is found; 

Its verdure and its sweet perfumes 
Are balm to every bleeding w T ound. 

The mine is barred to indolence, 

The dewy pearl hides in the sea, 
The " golden fleece" is found far hence, 

" Beyond the Alps lies Italy." 

No good e'er comes to idle dreams ; 

To wish, is but to wish in vain ; 
The polished shaft of marble gleams 

Not for the stranger unto pain. 

All things of honest worth are brought 
By toil and patience, faith and love ; 

Each step in life's great ladder wrought 
By which the soul may mount above. 

Oh, could I speak one word of cheer 
To those who languish in the strife ! 

Oh, could I wipe away the tear 

And let them see their crown of life ! 

Press on with courage true and bold ; 

Press on with pulses beating high ; 
The morning breaks her bars of gold ! 

The sun in splendor mounts the sky ! 

G. W. Crofts. 

65 



BE 6@NTENT. 

E content with such things as ye have. Some peo- 
ple have better things, others have worse. You, 
perhaps, can not have the better, and you have no 
desire for the worse; then be content with what you 
have. You may have had better things in the past, 
you may have worse things in the future. Be thankful 
for the present and be content. If your lot is a hard 
one, you may improve it, but not by murmuring, fret- 
ting or repining. Just here to-day learn the lesson of 
contentment, and wait on God for brighter days, for 
richer fruits, for purer joys. 

No blessing comes to the murmuring, complaining, 
discontented heart. When once this evil demon of dis- 
content has entered into the soul nothing is right. 
Even the ' 'angel's food" was not good enough for the 
murmuring Israelites, and "the corn of heaven" could 
not satisfy those whose souls were filled with the dis- 
content of earth. But when once the heart has found 
its rest in God, and all its murmurings are hushed in 
sweet submission to His will, there is peace in believ- 
ing, joy in the Holy Ghost, and a hallowed confidence 
in the kind providence of Him who hath done all things 
well. 



There is nothing more difficult than to make a friend 
of a foe ; nothing more easy that to make a foe of a 
friend. 

66 



THE 8GUliP7©R B@Y. 

fHISEL in hand stood a sculptor boy, 
With his marble block before him, 
1 And his face lit up with a smile of joy 
As an angel dream passed o'er him. 
He carved that dream on the yielding stone 

With many a sharp incision ; 
In Heaven's own light the sculptor shone — 
He had caught that angel vision. 

Sculptors of life are we as we stand 

With our lives uncarved before us, 
Waiting the hour, when, at God's command, 

Our life-dream passes o'er us. 
Let us carve it, then, on the yielding stone 

With many a sharp incision ; 
Its heavenly beauty shall be our own — 

Our lives that angel vision. 

— W. C. DOANE. 



LQMG MFE. 

t OUNT not thy life by calendars ; for 
MEi Years shall pass thee by unheeded, whilst an hour- 

Some little fleeting hour, too quickly past — 
May stamp itself so deeply on thy brain, 
Thy latest years shall live upon its joy. 
His life is longest, not whose boneless gums, 
Sunk eyes, wan cheeks, and snow-white hairs bespeak 
Life's limits ; no ! but he whose memory 
Is thickest set with those delicious scenes 
'Tis sweet to ponder o'er when even falls. 

67 



jf HE sentiment that it matters not what a man 
W believes, so that he is sincere, is as unscriptural 
as it is absurd. Sincerity in unbelief has no more 
effect in warding off evil in the spiritual, than in the 
natural kingdom. If the teachings and persuasions of 
a reputed chemist should prevail upon you to believe 
arsenic harmless, would it therefore be harmless? 
Could you mix it with your bread, and you and your 
children eat it without injury to health or life ? Oh, 
no! Neither will the sincerity of your belief save you 
from the consequence of error in religious faith. Right 
belief — truth — God's truth, brethren, is the only foun- 
dation on which you can safely rest your hope. 



HE 010 m 0U7Y. 

JHE man who has formed the habit of industry 
and faithfulness will not long remain unnoticed. 
Though he may work on for months uncom- 
mended and apparently unseen, reward will come in 
due time, if he keeps bravely in the path of duty. 

A lad was once employed as a cleak in a large mer- 
cantile house which employed as entry clerks, shipping 
clerks, buyers, bookkeepers, salesmen, eighty young 
men, besides a small army of porters, packers and 
truckmen. 

The boy of seventeen felt that amid such a crowd he 

68 



BE JDtD HIS DUTY. 

was lost to notice, and any efforts he might make would 
be disregarded. 

Nevertheless, he did his duty ; every morning at eight 
o'clock he was promptly in his place, and every power 
he possessed was brought to bear upon his work. 
After he had been there a year he had occasion to ask 
a week's leave of absence during the busy season. 
"That," was the response, "is an unusual request, and 
one which it is somewhat inconvenient for us to grant; 
but for the purpose of showing you that we appreci- 
ate the efforts you have made since you have been with 
us, we take pleasure in giving you the leave of absence 
for which you ask." 

"I didn't think," said the boy when he came home 
that night and related his success, ' 'that they knew a 
thing about me, but it seems they have watched me 
ever since I have been with them." 

They had, indeed, watched him, and had selected 
him for advancement, for shortly after he was promoted 
to a position of trust, with appropriate increase of sal- 
ary. Conscientious devotion to duty seldom fails. 



PILOT was once asked if he knew all the rocks 
along the coast. "No," said he, "it is not nec- 
essary to know all the rocks, only the safe chan- 
nel." Remember, though Christ has promised us a 
safe landing, he has not promised us a calm passage. 



69 



H REGE1P7 PR HWRME8& 

|fT is simple : When you rise in the morning, forma 
1} resolution to make the day a happy one to a fellow- 
^ creature. It is easily done. A left off garment to 
the man who needs it ; a kind word to the sorrowful ; 
an encouraging expression to the striving — trifles in 
themselves light as air — will do it at least for the twen- 
ty-four hours. And if you are young, depend upon it, 
it will tell when you are old ; and if you are old, rest 
assured it will send you gently and happily down the 
stream of life to eternity. Look at the result. You 
send one person, only one, happily through the day, 
and it is three hundred and sixty-five during the year; 
and suppose you live forty years only after you com- 
mence this course, you have made fourteen thousand 
and six hundred human beings happy, at all events for 
a time. Now worthy reader is it not simple, and is it 
not worth accomplishing ? 



E who overlooks a small occasion will have lost his 
111)) eyesight when a great one comes. Never wait for 
~^ a chance to do good, never seek for some great 
thing, but improve each small opportunity as it comes 
to you, and some day you will be surprised to find that 
the truly great occasion of your life would have been 
overlooked had you not been keeping track of the 
small things. 

;o 



0©WG HIS WILL 



MY the voice of the Master bid me, 

B " Go, buckle the armor on, 

$ Go, stand where the fight is the thickest, 

And strike till the victory's won," — 
I count that the joy of serving 

Will prompt me to go unswerving. 

Yet, when the din and clamor 

I can hear, yet comes no call, 
And I fold my hands while the valiant 

Smite their foes, till they shrink and fall,- 
I fret that such fate should bind me, 

And the Master in idleness find me. 

But the voice that nerved for the battle 

I hear as the din grows still, 
And it whispers me this sweet plaudit, 

" Fret not, you too, did my will." 
Sweet message, my soul elating, 

" You served me by only waiting." 



OMMON politeness is very simple, very easy, very 
cheap. It costs nothing in effort; it is no tax on 

v either the physical or mental powers; it is always 
gratefully received by polite people, and it gratifies 
giver as well as receiver. It makes all within the 
range of its influence happier and better, and it smooths 
many of the rough paths of life. 



71 



"THE GMR0EH 0p R8SE8." 

fIS the Master's garden of beauty now, 
An orchard of pleasant fruits. 
As he walks in the shade at the cool of day, 
With voice of approval we hear Hirn say, 
"Blessed is she 
Who trains these human flowers for me." 



Once it brought forth only briars and thorns — 
No plant of beauty was here ; 
No shade where the Master could love to rest, 
No roses to fasten upon his breast ; 

He turned his face 

Away in grief from the wasted place. 

Now he looks with joy on the tender vines, 
And blesses the gardener's care ; 
The winds of his providence send abroad, 
Over desolate waste and dusty road, 

A fragrance rare 

From his purchased garden of roses fair. 

As he walks among the beds of bloom, 
A touch of his gentle hand 
Breaks now and again from the parent stem 
From among the buds the fairest of them \ 

But not to die — 

His touch giveth life eternally. 

Tis blessed to work in thy garden, Lord ; 

Give even to me a share ! 

When comest in at the cool of day, 

May the word be for me when Thou shalt say, 

"Blessed is she 

Who trains these human flowers for me." 

—Mrs. J. H. Knowle$ 

72 



PA71EN6E WITH THE MV'^G, 

WEET friend, when thou and I are gone 
Beyond earth's weary labor, 
When small shall be our need of grace 
From comrade or from neighbor ; 
Passing all the strife, the toil, the care, 

And done with all the sighing, 
What tender truth shall we have gained, 
Alas ! by simply dying ? 

Then lips too chary of their praise 

Will tell our merits over, 
And eyes too swift our faults to see 

Shall no defects discover. 
Then hands that would not lift a stone 

Where stones were thick to cumber 
Our steep hill-path, will scatter flowers 

Above our pillowed slumber. 

Sweet friend, perchance both thou and L 

Ere love is past forgiving, 
Should take the earnest lesson home,— 

Be patient with the living. 
To-day's repressed rebuke may save 

Our blinding tears to-morrow ; 
Then patience — e'en when keenest edge 

May whet a nameless sorrow. 

*Tis easy to be gentle when 

Death's silence shames our clamor, 

And easy to discern the best 

Through memory's mystic glamor ; 

But wise it were for thee and me, 
Ere love is past forgiving, 

To take the tender lesson home- 
Be patient with the living. 

73 



a LJV^G heart. 

HE woman with a loving heart is sure to look up- 
on the bright side of life, and by her example in- 
duce others to do so. She sees a good reason 
for all the unwelcome events which others call bad luck. 
She believes in silver linings, and likes to point them 
out to others. A week of rain or fog, an avalanche 
of unexpected guests, a dishonest servant, an unbe- 
coming bonnet, or any other of the thousand minor 
inflections of everyday life, have no power to disturb 
the deep calm of her soul. The love light is still in her 
eyes, whether the day be dark or bright. It is she 
who conquers the grim old uncle and the dyspeptic 
aunt. The crossest baby reaches out its arms to her, 
and is comforted; old people and strangers always ask 
the way of her in the crowded street. She has a good 
word to say for the man or woman who is under the 
world's ban of reproach. Gossip pains her, and she 
never voluntarily listens to it. Her gentle heart helps 
her to see the reason for every poor sinner's mis-step, 
and condones every fault. She might not serve with 
acceptance on the judge's bench, but she is a very 
agreeable person to know. If you seek to find the 
happy and fortunate women in your circle, they will 
generally be those who were born with loving hearts, 
or, if not so endowed by nature, they have cultivated, 
by help of grace, this choice possession, and so have 
a double claim to its rewards. 

n 



^ 



WWKR171E3 W ymUGt GIRLS. 

HERE is very little left to call the people you love 
YSW if you lavish words of affection on every strang- 
^ er whom you meet. If you call a young woman 
whom you have known just half an hour "Dear, " and 
one whom you have known three days "Darling," 
there will be no tender endearing term for you to ad- 
dress to those who have your whole heart. Girls who 
are not of necessity gushing are often apt to speak in 
the most familiar manner. Good speech is certainly 
pure silver, but there are so many times when silence 
would out-weigh it and be perfect gold. To tell of one's 
family affairs, to tell of one's joys and worries to some 
one who has a sympathetic manner and seems to in- 
vite it, is at once a weakness and misfortune. To write 
a letter in which you use endearing terms, in which 
you discuss personal matters, is more than merely in- 
discreet — it is dangerous. Don't you think if you are 
a bit familiar in speech, or with a pen to a man that he 
is going to meet this more than half way? Don't you 
think if you call him by his first name he is very apt 
to call you by yours, and perhaps before people whom 
you do not care to think lightly of you? If you per- 
mit him to speak of things not usually discussed, do 
not imagine for one moment he is going to regard the 
conversation as confidential. He will always tell it to 
somebody and then you can imagine how much furth- 
er down in the esteem of two people you have gone. 

71 



WHAT TO TEACH THE BOTS. 



Don't permit any man to be familiar with you to the 
extent of calling you * 'Old Girl, " or citing you as* 'One 
of the boys." You don't belong among the boys, and 
you shouldn't be counted there. Don't let any man, 
unless you are betrothed to him, kiss you. Lips are 
of little worth to John, which have been pressed by 
Tom, Dick and Harry. 



WjHAT PT^GH THE BOYS. 

JO be obedient. 

\jf To have patience. 

To read books worth reading. 

To be temperate in all things. 

To keep themselves neat and clean. 

To shun evil company and rough ways. 

To take off their hats when they enter the nouse. 

To get their lessons, and obey the rules of the 
school. 

Always to be employed in some useful occupation. 

Never to chew, smoke, drink or use profane lan- 
guage. 

To keep early hours, and always be punctual and in- 
dustrious. 

To be polite at all times, and always have a kind 
word for everybody. 

To avoid contracting loose habits, and to strive to be 
manly always. 

To be kind, and courteous to each other in the 
school-room and on the street. 

7 6 




JND your tongue ! Don't let it speak hasty, 
cruel, unkind, or wicked words. 
Mind your eyes ! Don't permit them to look 
on wicked books, pictures or objects ! 

Mind your ears ! Don't suffer them to listen to 
wicked speeches, songs or words. 

Mind your lips ! Don't let tobacco foul them. 
Don't let strong drink pass them. Don't let the food 
of the glutton enter between them. 

Mind your hands ! Don't let them steal or fight, or 
write any evil words. 

Mind your feet ! Don't let them walk in the steps 
of the wicked. 

Mind your heart ! Don't let the love of sin dwell 
in it. Don't give it to Satan, but ask Jesus to make 
it his throne. 



An hour of solitude, passed in sincere and earnest 
prayer, will teach us more of thought, will more effect- 
ually awaken the faculty and form the habit of reflec- 
tion, than a year's study in the schools without it. 

— Coleridge. 



One of the most effectual ways of pleasing and of 
making one's self loved is to be cheerful. Joy softens 
more hearts than tears. 



77 



,S years slip by, more thoughtful do we grow 
"When unto those we love, farewell is said : 
> To youth, Time moves with steps of lagging tread^ 
And hence they deem to all his flight is slow. 
But when maturer, higher growth we know, 
And light on our imperfect sight is shed, 
We come to feel a month, a year, swift fled, 
May mean a weight of overwhelming woe. 

With clasp of hand or loving kiss we part, 
And words of fondness, linking heart to heart, 

Speaking of what shall be when we again 
Answer with smiles the look of trustful eyes ; 
But if this be no more beneath the skies, 

Unutterable the heritage of pain. 



pdvige p mttiie mm 

iE very kind, dear children, to your grandmother. 
I know sometimes little folks think grandma is 
fussy ; and that she thinks such a little noise is too 
much. But, dear children, you can think how hard it 
is for grandma to bear noise, pleasure and trouble all 
mixed. When your mamma and all your uncles and 
aunts were children like you, she used to be just as 
patient as your mamma is with you. If it had not been 
for dear good grandma, you would not have had such 
a dear loving mamma. It was she who taught mamma 
to be so nice and good, and mamma is trying to teach 
you now. 

78 



tF your station is an humble one, fill it to the best of 
your ability, and that is all that will be required of 
^ you. God only wants now and then a Paul, a Luth- 
er, a Calvin, or a Moody ; but he always wants, and 
the world always wants, a multitude of men and women 
ready to bury their lives in the tunnels and mines of 
society, away from the gaze of those who seek a less 
noble and less enduring work. To a vast number of 
such self-denying, humble workers, like those "of 
whom the world was not worthy," the state, the church 
and society are most deeply indebted to-day ; and 
though their names are unknown, and their deeds are 
unsung, yet in the world to come they may have a full- 
er joy and a more blessed inheritance than many who 
are occupying a more conspicuous place, and seem to 
be doing a larger work in the world. 



seven mm ruiie& 

Acquire thoroughly. This puts the knowledge in. 
Review frequently. This keeps the knowledge. 
Plan your work. This begins well. 
Work your plan. This finishes well. 
Never think of self. Selfishness spoils all. 
Never look back. Waste no time over failures. 
Earn, save, give all you can for jesus. Happiness, 

79 



?W@ SLIDES J0 £ QUESTION. 

O you know what you're doing young lady, 
When you're trying to capture a beau? 
When you dress you in fancy apparel 
And go on the streets for a show? 
Will you be quite content with the mortal 

You are trying so faithful to get? 
Or, after the bargain is over, 
Will you have a dissatisfied fit? 

There are fits which are painful and lasting. 

But physicians the end may foretell, 
But with this kind of fit, I am fearful, 

You will have all your life to get well. 
I have learned by a slight observation 

There are sometimes two sides to a thing; 
I've noticed that sometimes young ladies 

Are apt to cry after they sing. 

You say you love him for his beauty! 

Do you know he takes you for your dress? 
Do you know love is proved in the homestead, 

And that this will not stand the sad test? 
You will have few hours for the ball-room, 

And household duties to shirk, 
For 'tis plain he will never be able 

To provide should you fail in the work. 

And when there's no time for the frizzes, 
And bustles are things of the past, 

And he sees that the beauty he married 
When confined to the home fails to last, 

80 



TWO SIDES TO A QUESTION. 

Remember, this is not false Scripture, 

And should you doubt now time will tell, — 

He will go where he finds these attractions, 
And home will be next to a hell! 

You will fade and your husband will notice 

You are not the fair miss that he wed, 
And, though he may try to conceal it, 

For his home there arises a dread; 
And he'll spend his spare time by the fireside 

Where fashion and beauty abound, 
For he tires of the cares of the homestead, 

And goes where old pleasures are found. 

Nor can I quite call him a scoundrel 

And say that he meant to deceive, 
For that would be harshly affirming 

What I myself hardly believe. 
He was full of ambition, you called it, 

And liked all the fun he could get; 
'Tis but the old life you admired, 

And he's not got over it yet. 

Then remember, you 're building in folly 

The nest where you'll have to abide; 
You are giving your truth and your honor, 

And selling your Master beside. 
And when you have found his heart roving 

From the one he has power to bless, 
Say not he is false, for he clings to 

What he married— just beauty and dress. 

—Mrs. Nellie Mearns Weaver. 



8i 



THE BATTLE ©|? M|?e. 

O forth to the battle of life, ray boy, 

Go while it is called to-day ; 
For the years go out and the years come in, 
Regardless of those who may lose or win, 

Of those who may work or play. 

And the troops march steadily on, my boy, 

To the army gone before ; 
You may hear the sound of their falling feet 
Go down to the river where two worlds meet : 

They go to return no more. 

There 's a place for you in the ranks, my boy, 

And duty, too, assigned ; 
Step in to the front with a cheerful face ; 
Be quick or another may take your place 

And you may be left behind. 

There 's work to be done by the way, my boy, 
That you can never tread again — 
Work for the loftiest, lowliest man — 
Work for the plow, plane, spindle, and pen — 
Work for the hands and the brain. 

The serpent will follow your steps, my boy, 

To lay your feet a snare ; 
And pleasure sits in her fairy bowers, 
With garlands of poppies and lotus flowers 

Inwreathing her golden hair. 

82 



NEVER TOO OLD 10 LEARN. 

Temptations will wait by the way, my boy, — 

Temptations without and within ; 
And spirits of evil, with robes as fair 
As those which the angels in Heaven might wear, 

Will lure you to deadly sin. 

Then put on the armor of God, my boy, 

In the beautiful days of youth ; 
Put on the helmet and breast-plate and shield, 
&nd the sword that the feeblest arm may wield 

In the cause of right and truth. 

Then go to the battle of life, my boy, 

With the peace of the gospel shod, 
And before high heaven do the best you can 
For the great reward and the good of man, 

For the kingdom and the crown of God. 



I^EVER JQO OLD TO LEHRfl. 

IR Henry Spellman neglected the sciences in his 

^ youth, buc commenced the study of them when 
he was between fifty and sixty years of age. After 
this time he became a most learned antiquary and law- 
yer. 

Dr. Johnson applied himself to the Dutch language 
but a few days before he died, 

Franklin did not commence his philosophical re- 
searches till he reached his fiftieth year. 

Socrates, at an extreme old age, learned to play on 
musical instruments. 

Cato, at eighty years of age, began to study the 
Greek language. 

83 



-^ 




THE SHEPHERD'S HPPEflL 

j^AVE you seen my lamb that has gone astray, 
|)V Afar from the shepherd's fold, 

Away in the deserts "wild and bare," 
Or on the mountain cold ? 
Have you ever sought to bring it back 
By a word, or a look, or a prayer, 
Or followed it on where it wandered alone, 
iVnd tried to reclaim it there ? 

Ye gather each week in the place of prayer, 

And ye speak of your love for me, 
And pray that your daily life may bear 

Some fruit that the world may see. 
Ye meant it well ; but, when once away, 

Do you live that life of prayer? 
Is the soul of the lamb that ? s gone astray 

Your chief and greatest care ? 

Ye speak of the good that ye mean to do 

Among your fellow men ; 
Yet ye tarry oft 'mid the joys of earth ? 

They are watching your footsteps then. 
And while ye have stopped for pleasure or ease 

The lamb that has gone astray 
Has wandered farther 'mid darkness and sin 

Along the forbidden way. 

Ye meet in your counting-house rooms for gain, 

And count the cost each day ; 
Do ye ever count what the cost may be 

Of the lamb that has gone astray ? 

85 



WOMAN'S INFLUENCE. 

The cost of that soul will far out-weigh 

Your stocks and your piles of gold. 
Can you leave your gain and wealth untold 

To gather it into the fold ? 

It is perishing now in the bleak and cold 

While ye might have saved its life. 
Are ye thinking too much of your ease and your gains 

To enter the Christian strife ? 
When the reck'ning is called and the balance made, 

Will the wealth of a single day 
Atone for the loss of a dying soul — 

For the lamb that has gone astray ? 

— F. Marsh. 



W0JWS WLUEN6E, 

OMAN holds the balance of power over man ; 
ft and she can throw that balance to the side she 
will — either for his good or for his ruin. Her 
influence can make man pure, brave and strong, or 
make him stoop to things so weak and unbecoming ; 
things not criminal, perhaps, yet so beneath a proper 
dignity that the blushes of shame will mantle his cheek 
when away from that presence. Whiskey makes a man 
beastly, money will make him avaricious, woman can 
make life good or evil — as she chooses. 

— Marion Murphy. 



Never purchase friends by gifts, for if you cease to 
give they will cease to love. 

86 




IS' 



^E know that when the clouds look darkest 
And spreads their shade around — 
f!5 } £^3 If we could look beyond their portals, 
The sunshine would be found ; 
And when the storm beats o'er us fiercely, 

Crushing our flowers to earth — 
That when the tempest's reign is over 
They will have fairer birth, 

So, when life's cares o'erwhelm us, 

And we sink down dismayed, 
When hope's fair promises all fail us, 

And — even trust betrayed — 
Fairer for having been o'ershadowed, 

Our blessing will shine forth 
After the storm is over. Its coming 

Has proved true friendship's worth. 



G0QD ADVISE. 

fJffY advice is," said Isaac Walton, w that you en- 
l^t deavor to be honestly rich, or contentedly poor. 
'" -^ Be sure that your riches are justly got, or 
you spoil all. For it is well said, ' He that loses his 
conscience has nothing left that is worth keeping.' 
Therefore be sure you look to that. And in the next 
place look to your health ; and if you have it, praise 
God, and value it next to a good conscience ; for 



GOOD ADVICE, 



health is a blessing that money cannot buy ; therefore 
value it, and be thankful for it. As for money, neglect 
it not ; but note there is no necessity for being rich. 

1 ' I have a rich neighbor who is always so busy he 
has no leisure to laugh : the whole business of his life 
is to get money, and more money. That he may still 
get more and more money, he is still drudging on, and 
says that Solomon says, ' The diligent hand maketh 
rich ;' and it is true indeed. But he considers not that 
it is not in the power of riches to make a man happy ; 
for it is wisely said by a man of great observation, 
'There be as many miseries beyond riches as on this 
side of them.' And yet- God deliver us from pinching 
poverty ; and grant, that having enough, we may be 
content and thankful. Let us not repine, or so much 
as think the gifts of God unequally dealt, if we see an 
other abound with riches ; when, as God knows, the 
cares that are the keys that keep those riches, hang 
often so heavily at the rich man's girdle, they clog him 
with weary days and restless nights, even when others 
sleep quietly. 

' ' I have heard a great divine say, that God has two 
dwellings ; one in heaven; and the other in the meek 
and thankful heart ; which Almighty God grant to 
you and me." 



Constant occupation prevents temptation. 
Conscience is never diliatory in her warnings, 
Confine your tongue lest it confine you. 



BE ft MB p WtfER. 

|jY boys, be kind to mother, 

I jTOjrc For she 's been kind to you ; 

kt^-0* She 's sought to lead you safely 

Your life's brief pathway through. 
She *s cared for you and loved you, 

And tried to save you pain, 
And gave you kindly counsel* — 
I hope not all in vain. 

She wants to see you happy, 

She wants you to be true ; 
Her hope and pride are centered, 

Believe it, boy, in you. 
How much of joy and comfort 

Is in your power to give 
This faithful loving mother, 

If rightfully you live. 

Be manly, true and honest 

In everything that's done, 
And show her that her counsel 

Is treasured by her son ; 
Be kind when old age sprinkles 

Its snowflakes in her hair, 
And make her last days happy 

With loving words of care. 



— W. J. Sloan. 



Faith like the diamond, is valuable in proportion to 
the degree of light it can catch and reflect. 

8 9 



1 



ftfE TRUE PEHGEWER, 

ON'T be a grumbler. Some people contrive to 
get hold of the prickly side of everything, to run 
against all the sharp corners and disagreeable 
things. Half the strength spent in growling would 
often set things right. You may as well make up your 
mind to begin with that no one ever found the world 
quite as he would like it; but you are to take your 
part of the trouble and bear it bravely. You will be 
sure to have burdens laid upon you that belong to 
other people, unless you are a shirker yourself; but 
don't grumble. If the work needs doing, and you can 
do it, never mind about that other fellow who ought 
to have done it and didn't. Those workers who fill 
up the gaps and smooth away the rough spots and fin- 
ish up the jobs that others leave undone — they are 
the true peacemakers and worth a whole regiment of 
growlers. 



••business is business; 

[HERE is a man who lives in the city of New 
Pf York who has accumulated quite a fortune by 
^ simply advising people what to do. There al- 
ways will be a large number of persons who are una- 
able to rely on their own judgment. Others come to 
a conclusion with ease and certainty. 

A young man had accumulated #1,000, and was de- 

90 



"BrsiyESS is BrsryEss." 

bating whether he should buy a small candy store v 
ter he should lend it c 

The : 3m- 

great pro. 1 .:. [n ad- 

lent e given ?e going into busi- 

ness." 

t the zounselor said: ' 'My fee 
will : : nee." 

When he asked: 

': Do you understand the candy busine, 

lid not think itwas nee I :::pectto 

supervise it mei 

: ur moil three 

months." 

1 • You think I had better lend the money on the 
mortgage? " 

"I did not say that. ^ss; that 

is, what do you perfectly und 

' ' I know the pickle business through and through. 
I can make pickles of all kinds but do not I 

" Never mind what :e. Go and get a sn 

place and make pickles. Go froi h hotel., res- 

taurant to restaurant, and s :n. In ten years 

te back and see me. You will have si 0,000 at 

; □ g m ; away he was cal 

_k. 
Here is a card. I want you to put it where you 
can see it a hundred times a day. 

These were the words* card: "Business is 

9 1 



'w - « BUSINESS IS S U8INESS.99 

Business. Men don't do what they like; they do what 
they can." 

The card had a strange fascination for him. He 
read it with care as he walked along the street. As 
he studied it new light seemed to enter his mind. 

He found a dingy basement, and began to arrange 
for his operations. Of course, vinegar must be got, 
several barrels of it. Some was offered him at ten 
cents a gallon, some more was shown him at five cents. 
" Which shall I take? " He thought of the words on 
his card. He seemed to see people testing his pick- 
les, and not liking them depart without buying. 

'* They will know good vinegar/' thought he; and 
so he bought the honest stuff. 

In a few days several tubs of the materials weiv- 
ready, and he knew he must market them. Now he 
greatly hated to face strange people, and push his 
goods upon their notice. He never had courage when 
a boy, and now as a man he felt more timid, it seem- 
ed, but he thought of the words of his card, and en- 
tered a restaurant. The evident manager was a bloom- 
ing young woman; and the pickle-dealer was more 
afraid of women than men. But " business is busi- 
ness " repeated itself over and over in his mind. 

The answer to his statement was that his pickles 
should be tried, and if found all right would be pur- 
chased. 

" Glad I got that good vinegar," thought the young 
man; and he began to feel that there was a certain 
power in the maxim his advisor had given. He began 

92 



BUSINESS IS BUSINESS." 

to feel a courage he had never expected in meeting 
people and trying to sell his goods to them. 

Calling at a store to get, if possible, an order for 
pickles in bottles, he was quickly and rudely met with, 
4 'Don't want to see any such stuff. " Noticing the 
utter dismay on the young man's face, the merchant 
said, short and sharp, " Don't you know enough of 
business to put up your goods attractively? " 

As he retreated, ruffled and disheartened, the max- 
im repeated itself over and over, with this additional 
sentence, ' 'It is business to put up goods attractively. " 
He sought out a lithographer, and had some hand- 
somely colored labels printed. 

"They will buy the bottles," said a friend, "just for 
the picture you have on them." 

When he had gained sufficient courage, he sought 
out again the merchant who had rebuffed him. ' ' I 
wish to make you a present of a bottle of fine pickles." 

" Why do you make me a present of them? " 

" Because you gave me advice that is worth a good 
deal.'' 

The morning of one Fourth of July came, and he 
pondered whether to go to his store or not. All at 
once he thought, "People going on picnics will want 
pickles." It was the magic words on the little card 
that ran through his mind. He found as he thought, 
a large number of buyers waiting for him. 

The little card was consulted in all sorts of weather. 
If a man made a proposition to him of any kind, and 
he was in doubt, he would go and look at the words, 

93 



DON'T MAMEY A MAN TO BEFOEM HIM. 

and study them intently, trying to think their applica 
tion to the case in hand. ' ' Men do what they can, '* 
he reflected. "I would like to sell something else; 
but I know I can sell pickles." Then he returned. 
Now he was resolute and firm, although by nature eas- 
ily swayed by the words of others. 

" Business is business," he said, "I am in the pickle 
business. If I cannot make money this way I shall 
quit, and go into something else; but I will net have 
two kinds on my hands." 

It was a turning-point. After this he could refuse 
all influence to go into something at the time more lu- 
crative. 

He was not only industrious; it is plain he had a 
fixed principle of action. Of course he was success- 
ful. All men who put industry and mind to their work 
are bound to be successful. When the ten years were 
up, of course he had the $10,000 and more too. 



D0N7 /YIHRRY K W T© REFBRfl HW. 

§ON'T marry a man to reform him ! 
To God and your own self be true. 
Don't link to his vices your virtue; 
You'll rue it, dear girl, if you do. 

No matter how fervent his pleadings, 

Be not by his promises led ; 
If he can't be a man while a-wooing, 

He'll never be one when he's wed. 



94 



DON'T MARRY A MAN TO REFORM HIM* 

Don't marry a man to reform him- — 
To repent it, alas, when too late ; 

The mission of wives least successful 
Is the making of crooked limbs straight. 

There's many a maiden has tried it 

And proved it a failure at last : 
Better tread your life's pathway alone, dear, 

Than to wed with a lover that's ''fast" 

Mankind's much the same the world over ; 

The exceptions you'll find are but few ; 
When the rule is defeat and disaster, 

The chances are great against you. 

Don't trust your bright hopes for the future. 

The beautiful crown of your youth, 
To the keeping of him who holds lightly 

His fair name of honor and truth. 

To "honor and love" you must promise ; 

Don't pledge what you cannot fulfill. 
If he'll have no respect for himself, dear, 

Most surely you, then, never will. 

*Tis told us the frown of a woman 

Is strong as the blow of a man, 
And the world will be better when women 

Frown on error as hard as they can. 

Make virtue the price of your favor ; 

Place wrong-doing under a ban ; 
And let him who would win you and wed you 

Prove himself in full measure a man ! 



95 



G00'8 6ALL. 

OME out, come out, my people 
Oh ! hear the clarion call ; 
It ringeth down the ages, 
To you, to me, to all. 
"Ye are the royal priesthood, 
Your ransom is unpriced, 
Bought not with gold or silver, 
But the precious blood of Christ." 

"Ye are the living temples, 
Of God, the living God, 
Oh! follow in the footsteps 
Your blessed Master trod. 
Shun aught that can defile you, 
He'd have you walk in white, 
Heirs of His royal glory 
And children of the light." 

"Come out ! I will receive you, 
Touch not the unclean thing, 
Ye'll be the sons and daughters 
Of an Almighty King." 
Oh, cleanse both flesh and spirit, 
His blessed promise claim, 
He'll perfect what concerns you 
For Faithful is his name. 

—Elizabeth T. Laekix. 



9 6 



THE GRU-SE Jtfffl F^I^ETH NOT- 

J|fS thy cruse of comfort wasting? Rise and share 
;1 it with another, 

^ And through all the years of famine, it shall 
serve thee and thy brother. 

Love divine will fill thy storehouse, or thy handfull 

still renew ; 
Scanty fare for one will often make a royal feast 

for two. 

For thy heart grows rich in giving ; all its wealth is 

living grain ; 
Seeds which mildew in the garner, scattered, fill 

with gold the plain. 

Is the burden hard and heavy ? Do thy steps drag 

wearily ? 
Help to bear thy brother's burden ; God will bear 

both it and thee. 

Numb and weary on the mountains, wouldst thou 

sleep amidst the snow ? 
Chafe that frozen form beside thee, and together 

both shall glow. 

Art thou stricken in life's battle ? None but God its 

void can fill ; 
Nothing but a ceaseless Fountain can its ceaseless 

longing still. 

Is the heart a living power ? Self-entwined, its 

strength sinks low ; 
It can only live in loving, and by serving love will 

grow. 

— Elizabeth R. Charles. 

97 



MWJ GET 88UR. 

MAN will always find enough in this world of 
worry and want, to try his patience and test his 
good nature; but, whatever comes, he had better 
keep sweet. Sweetness is the condition of preserva- 
tion. Whatever is naturally sweet must be kept sweet 
or becomes worthless. Fruit is good for nothing after 
it sours. A man loses his attractions when he sours 
on the world, and his best friends included. We know 
of able ministers whose usefulness is practically at an 
end because they are thought to be "sour." They 
speak, look and act their acidity. Some one in times 
past slighted them ; and the sweetness of their hearts 
began to acquire the quality of tartness. The coagula- 
ting process kept right on, its work is now completed. 
Coleridge speaks of a "sour, gloomy, miserable 
man." You can find that man to-day in every rank of 
life, but the pity is that any christian minister is so. 
Who wants to follow the leadings, or receive the teach- 
ing of a crabbed, peevish, discontented pastor? His 
look is forlorn, his speech crusty and harsh, and his 
temper morose. It is all he can do to get into a mood 
to pray. He dare not show his acrimonious spirit 
when addressing the eternal throne, and so for a mo- 
ment he calls back his banished sweetness and talks 
pleasantly with God. The people hear him and fancy 
that he will be sociably agreeable again, but no sooner 
does he rise from his knees than the old acerbity is 
manifested in every lineament of his countenance. 

98 



TRUE POLITENESS, 

Poor man ! He is not what he once was. He turned 
sour before he stopped to think, and he cannot work 
himself back to his former state. It is easy to 
turn molasses into vinegar, but not easy to transform 
vinegar into molasses. If you are sweet to-day keep 
sweet. Guard yourself against morose feelings. 
Laugh when you want to frown, and sing when you 
feel like scolding. Curb your temper. If you must 
drink worm-wood, don't ask others to share your cup. 
Walk not in darkness. Get into the sunshine. Take 
on brightness. Consider what is good and beautiful 
and true, and ask God to help you to assimilate these 
qualities into your own unhappy nature. 



TRUE POLITENESS, 

fRUE politeness is always free from ostentation. 
To do a kind act and then publish it to the world 
^ is not polite, and to do an act in hope of reward 
is not polite. The effusiveness of a waiter who expects 
a fee, the porter tipping his hat to the hotel guest, or 
the boy who directs you on your way and then holds 
out his hand for a cent — these acts spring from mercen- 
ary motives, and although agreeable are certainly not 
polite. 

A New York man who went on a trip with his wife 
to Boston tells that in the elevator of his hotel he met 
a pleasant-faced and quiet-spoken gentleman, who, on 
seeing strangers desirous of seeing the city, escorted 
the couple about for nearly half a day. Among the 

LOFC, 99 



ITEYER BE IDLE. 

places visited were the City Hall and the mayor's 
office. 

"Which is the mayor?" asked the New Yorker of 
his guide, there being half a dozen persons in the office 
as they entered. 

" I am the mayor," was the astonishing reply. 

That was true politeness, and if it prevades Boston, 
the city has a right to call itself the "Hub." 



NEVER BE <BLE. 

IDLENESS means ruin just as stagnation means de- 
ll cay. You can catch better things than early worms 
^ by rising early in the morning sometimes, that will 
paint your cheeks, quicken your pulse, brighten your 
eye, and give you such an appetite as will make break- 
fast a treat, tea a delight, and — no room for supper. 
Besides, it's only one early bird that catches the worm. 
Every early boy can catch the benefit I speak of. And 
what the boy learns to love, the man will turn to ac- 
count, while his hay will be better and more abundant 
than an idler's, his corn, his carrots and his cucumbers 
will be finer, better and more abundant, too; and just 
when the idle man is thinking he ought to have a 
fortune, the early one will be wrapping his up and run- 
ning off to the bank with it. The boy who says it is 
music to hear the milk man and chimney-sweep from 
between the sheets will most likely take his bed to es- 
cape his creditors by and by. 

ioo 



W SAT and mused ; 

J'|| I felt so weary with the strife, 

^ I asked myself the question, " Is the prize 

I strive so hard to win, 
Worth all the toil, rebuff and pain, 

The jostle and the din?" 
I listened ; 

And a voice, from where I knew not, came 
And to my heart it whispered : 

" The prize heed not ; that aim would selfish be 
Work thou with all thy might and mind, 



" But who art thou ?" I asked. 

"I thought the prize to be a stimulant to urge me on; 

To elbow through the crowd ; to lead ; 
To trample under foot all that oppressed, 

And thus make greater speed." 
The voice replied : 

"If thou wouldst learn my name, heed my behest — 
Think naught of self, nor what will be thy gain ; 
Relinquish not one whit of toil, whatever be thy pain." 

Musing, my eyelids drooped ; 
I slept, and dreamed : 

Floating in azure blue, 
A castle was within, painted with sun-tint rays — 

It seemed so real I thought my dream were true. 
Spurred by ambition's lusts, 
So eager to possess, I forged my way 

IOI 



MOW TO DO GOOD. 

Through swamp, up craggy height, o'er desert sands ; 
It seemed within my grasp ! I reached \ — 
And lo ! I woke with empty, clenched hands. 

Walking, I looked me round ; demolished was the castle 

That builded in my dream ; I only saw 

Instead of it the wreck ; 
I had naught left me but to learn the name 
Of him who spake ; I followed as he bade me, 

And found his name was Faith. 



HOW p M G@8D, 

jj^E who waits to do a great deal of good at once, 
will never do anything. Life is made up of little 
things. It is but once in an age that occasion is 
offered for doing great good. True greatness consists 
in being great in little things. How are railroads built? 
By one shovel at a time. Thus drops make the ocean. 
Hence we should be willing to do a little good at one 
time and never wait to do a great deal of good at once. 
If we would do much good in the world, we must be 
willing to do it in the little things, little acts one after 
another ; speaking a word here, giving a tract there, 
and setting a good example all the time ; we must do 
the first thing we can, and the next and then the next, 
and keep on doing good. This is the way to accom- 
plish anything. Thus only shall we do all the good 
in our power. 

— Daisy M. Delp. 



102 



G0JYl|?0R7 one aNSTHEFt 

[OMFORT one another 

For the way is growing dreary, 
The feet are often weary, 
And the heart is very sad. 

There's a heavy burden-bearing, 
When it seems that none are caring, 
And we half forget that we were ever glad. 

Comfort one another 

With the hand-clasp close and tender, 
With the sweetness love can render, 

And the looks of friendly eyes. 

Do not wait with grace unspoken, 
"While life's daily bread is broken ; 

Gentle speech is oft like manna from the skies. 

Comfort one another : 

There are words of music ringing 
Down the ages, sweet as singing 

Of the happy choirs above. 

Ransomed saints and mighty angel, 
Lift the grand, deep-voiced evangel, 

When forever they are praising the eternal love. 

Comfort one another 

By the hope of Him who sought us, 
In our peril — Him who bought us, 

Paying with his precious blood ; 
By the faith that will not alter, 
Trusting strength that will not falter, 

Leaning on the One divinely good. 

103 



TOUR HISTORY, 

Comfort one another : 

Let the graves gloom lie beyond you, 
While the Spirit's words remind you 

Of the home beyond the tomb ; 

When no more is pain or parting, 
Fever's flush to tear-drop starting, 

But the presence of the Lord, and for all his 
people, room. 



ST is said of Peter the Great, Emperor of Russia, 
|| that once, when out in a sailing boat, he became so 
^ angry at some offense given by one of the men, 
that he seized him and was about to throw him over- 
board. The man had but time to say, ' ' You may 
drown me but your history will tell of it." Struck by 
the force of this fact, the Emperor relaxed his hold 
and desisted from his terrible purpose. 

Boys and girls, do you know that the acts and words 
of every day will make up something of your history? 
Once in a while some act will be performed that will 
mark a special point in your life. It may be an act of 
blessing, it may be some dreadful dark deed; in either 
case it will loom up out of the past, and will determine 
in great part the character you shall form and the rep- 
utation you shall bear in life. As the colors and fig- 
ures woven into a fabric determine its character, so the 
the acts, the words, the thoughts, that are woven into 
your every day life will determine with unfailing accu- 
racy what your life shall be. 

104 



THE BRRIN. 

;UR brains are seventy-year clocks. The Angel of 
Life winds them up once for all, then closes the 
case and gives the key into the hands of the Angel 
of the Resurrection. Tic-tac! tic-tac! go the wheels of 
thought; our will cannot stop them; they cannot stop 
themselves ;sleep cannot still them ; madness only makes 
them go faster; death alone can break into the case 
and seize the ever-swinging pendulum, which we call 
the heart, silence at last the clinking of the terrible es- 
capement we have carried so long beneath our wrink- 
led foreheads. 

— Oliver W. Holmes. 



WIND IS NOT W0RK. 

TfJIND is not work any more in the religious line 
■ll than in the commercial. We say of a man in 
- ~ the commercial world who is given to blowing 
about his business and his accomplishments, what he is 
going to do, etc., that he is a blow-hard, and men have 
little confidence in such a person. A successful busi- 
ness man who has many traveling men in his employ 
said: "Give me a man who says little and works 
much." In the religious field to-day, we need to look 
out for those who are full of wind in regard to God's 
work and who are given to boasting and really blowing 
about what they are going to do; but watch them, they 

105 



BOW DO YOU BO? 

never do anything else, They are religious blow- 
hards. You and I cannot judge of each other's work 
and we ought not to try to, but when we see one given 
to empty words and plans, we ought to pray earnestly 
that God would show him the danger and then look 
out for ourselves that we do not fall into a similar 
habit. It is extremely easy to talk then stop and let it 
end there. 

"Few words and much work" should be our motto. 



H0W D0 YOU DOT 

5^0W do you do ? "I do with my might 

Just as I 'm told, when I 'm told to do right. 
I strive for promotion by doing my best, 
My mother and teacher can tell you the rest. 
I speak when I 'm spoken to, come when they call, 
And strive to be kind and respectful to all. 
It is nothing to boast of, whatever I do, 
I wish it were more and were better, don't you ?" 

How do you feel ? " Sorry and mean, 
When I do a wrong act, whether hidden or seen, 
But I feel like a bobolink, joyous and bright, 
When I take the straight path and try to do right. 
It sometimes seems hard, but it turns out the best, 
And then I feel glad and can laugh with the rest. 
I can caper and jump, and turn somersets too ; 
It may not look nice, but I like it, don't you ?" 

What do you know? " Very little, it's true, 
Compared with my elders, but that's nothing new. 
If I study in earnest I hope to know more 
When I get to be twenty and on to four-score. 

1 06 



BECAUSE SHE WAS BLIND. 

Wisdom may come with gray hairs, if not now, 
When wrinkles of care settle deep on my brow, 
And boys will look up and honor me then, 
When I 'm a judge and stand among men," 

What do you do ? " I study and work ; 
I don't want to be a mean sneak or,a shirk. 
I have my home duties, and do them with care, 
In that and everything try to be square ; 
Tobacco and liquor I shun as a foe, 
And stand by my colors wherever I go. 
What more can I do, except love and obey 
My Maker and parents and heed what they say." 

— Anna Linden. 



BEGPUSE SHE Wfl8 BMNB. 

SUFFICIENT excuse for pettishness, and selfish- 
ness, and grumbling, one might suppose. But 
what a reason for giving! 
At a missionary meeting in Paris, a poor blind wo- 
man put twenty seven francs into the plate. " You 
cannot afford so much," said the man who was holding 
the plate. "Yes, sir, I can," she answered. On be- 
ing pressed to tell how she could give so much she 
said: "I am blind; and I said to my fellow straw-work- 
ers, 'how much money do you spend in a year for oil 
for your lamps, when it is too dark to work nights?' 
They added it up in their minds, and found it was 
twenty-seven francs. So," said the poor woman, "I 
found that I save twenty-seven francs in the year be- 
cause I am blind, and do not need a lamp; and I give 
it to send light to the dark heathen lands." 

107 



THE MOM RflTtf. 

I DARE not ! 
Look — the road is very dark — 
sgs- The trees stir softly and the bushes shake ; 
The long grass rustles, and the darkness moves 

Here — there — beyond ? 

There 's something crept across the road just now ! 

And you would have me go ? 

Go there — through that live darkness hideous 

With stir of crouching forms that wait to kill ? 

Ah, look ! See there — and there — and there again - 

Great yellow glassy eyes, close to the ground ! 

Look ! Now the clouds are lighter I can see 

The long slow lashing of the sinewy tails, 

And the set quiver of strong jaws that wait — ! 

Go there ? Not I ! Who dares to go who sees 

So perfectly the lions in the path ? 

Comes one who dares. 

Afraid at first, yet bound 
On such high errand as no fear could stay. 
Forth goes he, with the lions in his path. 

And then? 

He dared a death of agony — - 
Outnumbered battle with the king of beasts ; 
Long struggle in the horror of the night ; 
Dared and went forth to meet — O ye who fear ! 
Finding an empty road, and nothing there. 
A wide, bare common road, with homely fields 
And fences, and the dusty roadside trees. 
— — Some spitting kittens, maybe, in the grass. 

— Charlotte Perkins Stetson. 



108 



)IM high, my boy, and strive to climb 
The heights where heroes stand, 
^p 5 Whose purposes were all sublime, 
And aspirations grand. 

Each hero's life, a lesson is, 

And if you read it well, 
It gives you help and strength, and this 

Is what it has to tell. 

Be true ; be earnest for the right 

In every time and place ; 
Toward high endeavor's beacon light 

Set steadfastly your face. 

Be brave of heart ; if sore defeat 

O'ertake you in the way, 
Then with fresh zeal and courage meet 

The foe another day. 

The great men of the world are those 

Who swerved not left nor right 
When base, ignoble men opposed, 

But kept the goal in sight ! 

Though baffled, beaten for a time, 

From each defeat we gain 
A strength that makes the strife sublime, 

And takes away its pain. 

Be brave, be steadfast, and be true ; 

And ever, as you climb, 
Keep God's clear beacon light in view, 

And win, in His good time. 

— Eben E. Pexford. 



109 



EEP watcn on your words, my darling, 
For words are wonderful things ; 
i=lp They are sweet like the bee's fresh honey. 
Like the bees, they have terrible stings. 
They can bless like the warm, glad sunshine, 

And brighten a lonely life ; 
They can cut, in the strife of anger, 
Like an open, two edged knife. 

Let them pass through your lips unchallenged 

If their errand is true and kind — 
If they come to support the weary, 

To comfort and help the blind • 
If a bitter, revengeful spirit 

Prompts the words, let them be unsaid, 
They may flash through a brain like lightning, 

Or fall on a heart like lead. 

Keep them back if they're cold and cruel, 

Under the bar, and lock, and seal, 
The wounds they make, my darlings, 

Are always slow to heal. 
May peace guard your lips, and ever 

From the time of your early youth, 
May the words that you daily utter 

Be the words of beautiful truth. 



E. C. 



The beam of the benevolent eye giveth value to the 
bounty which the hand disburses. 



no 






tT is very pleasant to have company in a good work. 
It is very assuring to be backed by a strong organi- 
^ zation when one attacks a great evil. But God has 
generally singled out individual men to perform a great 
work. Moses did not wait for a vote of the Sanhe- 
drim before he destroyed Aaron's calf. John the 
Baptist did not submit his sermon on repentance for 
the approval of a council of Pharisees before he dared 
to preach it. Lovejoy did not wait for the consent of 
conservative orthodoxy before he told his Alton neigh- 
bors it was a sin to buy and sell men. Moody is not 
against the church of to-day, but ahead of it. If the 
Church can tolerate men of crooked lives professing 
holiness, Moody can call saints from both hemispheres 
to pray them out of Northfield. Dr. Cullis may not 
be able to get a proper sect to sanction the healing of 
the sick by the prayer of faith, but hundreds of indi- 
viduals will flock to him and become glad witnesses to 
the fact that Jesus Christ has lost none of his power 
over the bodies of men. 

Order is good; system is good; yet God wrought 
mightily with Gideon, David and Samson, though 
they departed somewhat from common military tactics. 
Better far the living disorder of apostolic preaching, 
though it be said to turn the world upside down, than 
the dead forms of a worn-out ritual that leave men to 

in 



perish in their sins. So in our time God has been 
pleased to smite giant evils by the hand of one man 
rather than at first by the united blow of a multitude. 
Not Catholic, not Episcopalian, not Independent smote 
the slave trade, but William Wilberforce. Not Presby- 
terian, not Methodist, not Baptist smote slavery, but 
William Lloyd Garrison. Not order, not sect, not 
convention smote rum, but Neal Dow. Christian men 
and Christian women, speak out for God! Go with 
your brethren as far as they follow Christ. If they 
halt at the cross, obey God and go forward. The 
Lord Jesus Christ demands individuals, not a >wds. 
Your brethren, your church, can not answer for you 
at the judgment. Let God work in you both to will 
and to do of his own good pleasure. Be of good 
courage, and He shall strengthen your heart, all ye 
that hope in theLord. Trust in the Lord and do good ; 
so shalt thou dwell in the land, and verily thou shalt 
beted." 



ITHOUT the resolution in your hearts to do 
good work, so long as your right hands have 
motion in them, and to do it whether the issue 
be that you die or live, no life worthy the name will 
ever be possible to you; while, in once forming the 
resolution that your work is to be well done, life is 
really won here and forever. 

— R.USXIN. 



112 




RESP0HS1B1MT1ES. 

MT is a high, solemn, almost awful thought for every 
|| individual man, that his earthly influence, which has 
^ commencement, will never, through all ages, were 
he the very meanest of us, have an end! What is done 
has always blended itself with the boundless, ever-liv- 
ing, ever-working universe, and will also work there for 
good or evil, openly or secretly, throughout all time. 
But the life of every man is as the wellspring of a 
stream, whose small beginnings are indeed plain to all, 
but whose ulterior course and destination, as it winds 
through the expanse of the infinite years, only the 
Omniscient can discern. Will it mingle with neighbor- 
ing rivulets as a tributary, or receive them as their 
sovereign? Is it to be a nameless brook, and will its 
tiny waters, among millions of brooks and rills, in- 
crease the current of some world's river? Or is it to 
be itself a Rhine or Danube, whose going forth are to 
the uttermost lands, its floods an everlasting boundary 
line on the globe itself, the bulwark and highway of 
whole kingdoms and continents? We know not; only 
in either case we know its path is to the great ocean ; 
its waters, where they are but a handful, are here, and 
cannot be annihilated or permanently held back. 

— Carlyle. 



O Lord, Thou knowest how busy I must be this day. 
If I forget Thee, do not Thou forget me. 

— Sir Jacob Ashley 
"3 



i*EEP BUSY. 

tF you expect God to choose you for a great work, 
be busy; he seldom selects idlers. When he wish- 
^ eda deliverer for Israel, he went into the wilder- 
ness for Moses, who was watching sheep ; when he 
wanted a man to save his people from the Midianites, 
he sent for Gideon, who was threshing wheat; when he 
wanted a man after his own heart to be king of Israel, 
he sent for David who was keeping sheep. Idlers do 
not suit; the Lord wishes those who are not only will- 
ing to work, but who are hard at it. Idlers are too 
often lazy, and that may be the cause of their idleness. 
Such seldom have ambition to take care of themselves, 
let alone caring for the Lord's work. But idlers suit 
Satan exactly. He likes such as have no ambition, for 
they make the best slaves. The devil wants slaves for 
his work, but God wants something better. He wishes 
men and women who have ambition, who take an in- 
terest in their work; he wishes persons who are anxious 
to rise, for he means to promote them some day. 
From servants, he adopts them into his family, and 
makes them as children. 



Those who place their hope in another world have 
in a great measure conquered the dread of death and 
unreasonable love of life. 



114 



fl[?7ER ffLL 

RIEF is strong, but joy is stronger, 
Night is long, but clay is longer. 
When life's riddle solves and clears, 
And the angels in our ears 

Whispers the sweet answer low — 
(Answer full of love and blessing) 
How our wonderment will grow 
At the blindness of our guessing ; 
All the hard things we recall, 
Made so easy — after all. 

Earth is sweet, but heaven is sweeter-, 
Love complete, but faith completer. 
Close beside our wandering ways, 
Through dark nights and weary days, 

Stand the angels with bright eyes ; 
And the shadow of the cross 

Falls upon and sanctifies 
All our pain and all our loss. 
Though we stumble, though we fall, 
God is helping — after all ! 

Sigh then, soul, but sing in sighing, 
To the happier things replying ; 
Dry the tears that dim thy seeing, 
Give glad thoughts for life and being ! 

Time is but the little entry 
To eternity's large dwelling, 
And the heavenly guards keep sentry, 
Urging, guiding, half-compelling, 
Till the puzzling way quite past, 
Thou shalt enter in — at last ! 

— Sydney Methodist. 



"5 



WORTH REMEMBERING. 

i wisest fellows, as we think, are those who 
% i - : agree with us. 

Contentment does not demand conditions, it 
kes them. 

Whistling does not make the locomotive go, it is the 
silent steam. 

Now, is always the very best time if we will only 
make it so. 

To be really yourself, you must be different from 
those around you. 

The ups and downs of life are better than being down 
all the time. 

Many men growl, grumble and fight, but it has no 
effect upon natural right. 



WSNTS Op DH1LY MFE. 

3/|EARX to entwine with prayer the small cares, tri- 
\j[ fling sorrows, and the little wants of daily life. 
Whatever effects you — be it a changed look, an 
altered tone, an unkind word, a wrong, a wound, a de- 
mand you cannot meet, a sorrow you cannot disclose — 
turn it into prayer and send it up to God. Disclosures 
you may not make to man, you may make to the Lord. 
Men may be too little for your great matters. God is 
not too great for your small ones. Only give yourself 
to prayer, whatever be the occasion that calls for it. 

116 



0BEWEM6E. 

HERE was once a great philosopher who had a 
Pf little daughter. A friend of the philosopher's 
came to see him, and while waiting he asked the 
little girl, " What is your father teaching you ?" With 
confiding trust, the little child looked up to him and 
said, " Obedience" Could the children in our families 
truthfully repeat after that little girl ? Could the chil- 
dren in our Sunday Schools truthfully repeat after that 
little girl? Obedience is the gate of knowledge, the 
foundation of virtue, the beginning of faith, and the 
secret of safe social relations. Children have no cor- 
ner-stone to build knowledge or character on, if they 
have not learned to obey. And the very highest faith 
in God has but one way of expressing itself — it must 
be the way for heaven as well as for earth — it is the 
way of obedience. " If any man will do His will, he 
shall know of the doctrine." 



8TEPPWG m\ fl 8PB@W, 

;NE dark night a man who was about to leave a 
steamboat saw what he supposed to be a gang- 
plank, but it was only a shadow. He stepped 
out upon it, and, of course, fell into the water below. 
He thought he was taking the right way, but his 
thinking so did not make any difference in the result 
so long as he did not take it. 

117 



s.r 



TO-MORROW'S BURDEN. 



Just so in matters of far greater importance. You 
must be right, not merely suppose you are right, if you 
are to avoid the evil consequences of wrong-doing. 
This man might have put it to the proof whether it was 
the gang-plank or not, before trusting himself upon it. 
Do not be like him, but test your beliefs and see if they 
are well grounded. Many a young man has been 
ruined by a course of conduct which at first he felt 
sure would do him no harm. Many a man has fol- 
lowed his own notions of what is right, instead of tak- 
ing God's word as a guide, and wakened in eternity 
to find that he has stepped on a shadow and fallen. 



7®-M@RR0W'S BURDEN, 

MT has been well said that no man ever sank under 
|j the burdens of the day. It is when to-morrow's 
^ burden is added to the burden of to-day, that the 
weight is more than a man can bear. Never load your- 
selves so, my friends. If you find yourselves so load- 
ed, at least remember this: it is your own doings, not 
God's. He begs you to leave the future to Him and 
mind the present. 

— George MacDonald. 



I hate to see a thing done by halves; if it be right, 
do it boldly; if it be wrong, leave it alone. 

— Gilpin. 



118 






THE ART W 8EL|7-BE|7EM8E. 

AVE you ever studied the art of self-defense?" 
Wj said a young fellow to a man of magnificent phys- 
TSfll iq ue anc [ noble bearing. The elder man looked 
at his questioner with a quiet smile, and then answered 
thoughtfully: "Yes; I have both studied and practiced 
it." "Ah!" said the other, eagerly, "whose system 
did you adopt — Sutton's or Savers'?" "Solomon's," 
was the reply; "and as I have now been in training 
for some time on his principles, I can confidently rec- 
ommend his system." Somewhat abashed, the youth 
stammered out, " Solomon's! And what is the special 
point of his system of training?" "Briefly this," re- 
plied the other: "'A soft answer turneth away 
wrath. ' ' For a moment the young man felt an incli- 
nation to laugh, and looked at his friend anxious to see 
whether he was serious. But a glance at the accom- 
plished athlete was enough; and soon a very different 
set of feelings came over the youth as his muscular 
companion added, "Try it!" 



Q00 WAMT8 mn L0VE. 

|P[OD is not expecting very much of us in the way 
of conduct. His joy is not in the things we do, 
but in seeing his own image reflected in us. It is 
the love of the child every true parent wants, and not 
its service. All that the service can do is to testify to 
the love in the heart. What God wants first of all, is 
love, not work. 

119 



THE GR0SS m® THE GWW- 

HE cross for only a day, 
The crown forever and aye ; 
The one for the night that will soon be gone, 
And one for eternity's glorious morn. 

The cross, then, I '11 cheerfully bear, 

Nor sorrow for loss or care ; 
For a moment only the path and the strife, 
But through endless ages the crown of life. 

The cross till the conflict 's done, 
The crown when the victory 's won : 
My cross never more remembered above 
While wearing the crown of this matchless love. 

His cross I '11 never forget, 
For marks on his brow are set ; 
On his precious hands, on his feet and side, 
To tell what he bore for the church, his bride. 

My cross I '11 think of no more, 
But strive for the crown set before ; 
That ever through ages my song may be 
Of his cross that purchased my crown for me. 

The work of redemption done, 
His cross and his crown are one ; 
The crimson and gold will forever blend 
In the crown of Jesus, the sinner's friend. 



120 



fl FEW. TABLE "I3©W 

ON'T smack your lips. 

Don't take large mouthfuls. 

Don't use your knife instead of your fork. 

Don't find fault and kick about your food. 

Don't talk with your mouth filled with food. 

Don't soil the table-cloth with bones, parings, etc. 

Don't commence eating as soon as you are seated. 

Don't laugh loudly, or talk boisterously at the table. 

Don't retail all the slanders you can think of at the 
table. 

Don't take bones up in your fingers to eat the meat 
from them. 

Don't call attention to any little mistake which may 
have occurred. 

Don't make yourself and your own affairs the chief 
topic of the conversation. 

Don't take another mouthful, while any of the pre- 
vi s one remains in the mouth. 

Don't blow your food in order to cool it. 

Don't reach across the table for anything; but wait 
till it is passed to you, or ask for it. 

Don't put your elbows on the table or lounge about; 
if not able to sit erect, ask to be excused. 

Don't frown or look cross at the table; it hurts your 
own digestion as well as that of those eating with you. 

Don't pick your teeth unless something has become 
edged between them, then put your napkin to your 
mouth while extracting it." 

121 



SHE lines of a woman's face are the tracings of her 
life history. Temper, emotion, principles, are 
plainly written there. A woman who exists like 
an oyster can keep her face unlined. The woman who 
lives, must expect to show the march of years. Too 
many women play with their emotions; they cater to 
nervous excitement. Then reality fails to furnish the 
necessary portion; fiction, sensational reports of dis- 
asters — commercial, social, accidental — becomes the 
basis of supply. To thrill, becomes as necessary as to 
breathe, and every emotion leaves its tell-tale mark 
and becomes the enemy that deprives life of power. 



ffUi PR THE BEST. 

ECURE is that soul in the midst of affliction 
Who sees in each sorrow the hand of his God, 
%& And knowing all things for his good work together, 
Unquestioning bows 'neath each stroke of the rod 
Oh, blest is that heart that, when tossed by tempest, 

Can cling to this hope as a bird to its nest, 
And say, with a faith by each trial made stronger, 
"The dear Father knows — it is all for the best." 

Each blossom of hope in our lives may be blighted, 

Swept by adversity's pitiless blast, 
Clouds of misfortune o'ershadow our pathway, 

Friends of a life-time prove false at the last ; 

122 



ALL FOR ^BM BEST, 

The heart may be sad and the way may be lonely 9 
And rough be the path by the weary feet pressed, 

Yet faith pleadeth ever, oh, fail not to trust Him ; 
"The dear Father knows — it is all for the best." 

The seed that, with weeping, we sow for the Master, 

Unquickened, may lie where it fell by the way ; 
Prayers that were wrung from our hearts deepest anguish, 

Unanswered remain, though we cease not to pray ; 
The Father may hide for a moment His presence, 

And the soul by its doubts and its fears be distressed, 
But faith whispers low, "Though He slay thee, yet trust 
Rim." 

"The dear Father knows — it is all for the best." 

These light afflictions, which but for a moment 

The Father hath sent us his promise to seal, 
Are naught to the weight of glory eternal, 

And far more exceeding, which God shall reveal. 
Some day we shall know why the crosses were given, 

For the angels will summon us home to our rest, 
Where, with faith lost in sight, and with vision grown 
clearer, 

We shall see as God sees, and shall know it was best. 



,OD will have us sure of a thing by knowing the 
heart whence it comes; this is the only worthy 
assurance. To know He will have us go in at 
the great door of obedient faith; and if anybody thinks 
he has found a back stair he will find it will land him 
at a doorless wall. 

— George MacDonald. 



123 



?|HE USEjHJk GIRL 

g^ER face, though not so handsome as some, 
Is yet attractively sweet ; 
Her dress, though not a costly one, 
Is tasteful, nice and neat. 



She lightens her mother of many cares ; 

To her father she is kind, — 
Showing in many remarkable ways, 

A well directed mind. 

She can wash, sew, sweep and cook, 

And do it deftly, too, 
And she can enjoy a new book 

As well as even you. 

She can beautiful fancy work do, 
In the genuine Kensington stitch ; 

She can sing, and play the organ, too ; 
From low to highest pitch. 

She can harness the team, and drive to town ; 

And, it may be shocking to you, 
But she can run the reaper and gather corn 

And be a lady, too. 

As our matrimonial ticket is drawn for life, 

And it's either win or lose — 
Young man in search of a wife 

The useful girl will you choose ? 



124 



^O you think that the Lord forgets you, 
Because you must fight and pray, 
And reap the sorrow-harvest 
You 've sown from day to day ? 
Do you think that He lets you sutler 

And never heeds your moan ? 
Ah, no ! for the dear Lord Jesus 
Will never forget His own. 

Do you think because your heart aches 

With a bitter, cruel pain, 
And your life's sweet, happy sunshine 

Is shadowed by storm and rain, 
And the music is hushed and silenced 

Till you hear but the undertone, 
That the dear Lord Jesus forgets you? 

He never forgets His own. 

Do you think that because your loved ones 

Are lying cold and still 
Where you cannot hear their voices 

Or work their careless will, 
And the struggle you 've made together 

Must now be fought alone, 
That the dear Lord Jesus forgets you? 

He never forgets His own. 

Do you think that because the sorrow 

All human hearts must know, 
Has come to you or the darling 

You loved and cherished so; 

12 5 



CONQUERING DEFEAT 

And the things you want have vanisLed, 
The things you would call your own, 

That the dear Lord Jesus forgets you ? 
He never forgets His own. 

And we 're all His own dear children, 

And He holds us all as dear 
As you do the wayward baby 

Who creeps to your heart so near ; 
And if we only listen 

We can hear His tender tone : 
"Oh, rest in peace, my children; 

I never forget my own." 

— Ethel M. Colson, 



60N3UER1NG DEfE^I. 

MN every life there are mistakes and sins. The holiest 
j do not live perfect. The strongest are liable to fall 
^ into sudden and unexpected temptation. The wisest 
will commit grave errors and follies at some time. We 
should know well in such cases how to deal with our 
sins. They must not simply be self-condoned and left 
lying on the path behind us while we hurry on, nor 
must they bring despair to our hearts as we sorrow 
over them; they must be sincerely and heartily repent- 
ed of, and forgiveness for them sought at the feet of 
Him we have offended and grieved. Then we must 
rise from disaster and defeat, stronger, purer, nobler, 
through Christ victorious over our own sins and a con- 
queror over our own defeat. 

126 



N0B1M7Y. 

i/RUE worth is in being, not seeming ; 
In doing, each day that goes by, 
ff$ Some little good — not in dreaming 
Of great things to do by and by. 
For, whatever men say in their blindness 

And in spite of the fancies of youth, 
There's nothing so kingly as kindness, 
And nothing so royal as truth. 

We get back our mete as we measure— 

We cannot do wrong and feel right, 
Nor can we give pain and feel pleasure, 

For justice avenges each slight. 
The air for the wing of a sparrow, 

The bush for the robin or wren ; 
But always the path that is narrow 

And straight for the children of men. 

We cannot make bargains for blisses, 
Nor catch them like fishes in nets ; 
And sometimes the thing our life misses, 

Helps more than the thing which it gets ; 
For good lieth not in pursuing, 

Nor gaining of great nor of small, 
But just in the doing, and doing 
As we would be done by, is all. 

— Alice Cary. 



He does well who does the best he can. 

127 



fmz TQ FHGE v/lTH TROUBLE 

T- f-OU are face to face with trouble, 

And tt Qurk and gray : 

■v^% : You hard to turn, 

are almost dazed you say. 
And 

Wl next bi ig ; 

phantom care 

O - C &" 

You are face to face with trouble ; 

A c 
A ship is wrecked on the bitter sea ; 

Th« i you cannot pay : 

Your brave t feeble ; 

Your sight is growing blind ; 
Perhaps a friend is cold and stern, 

Who was ever warm and kind. 

You are face to fa .rouble ; 

Xo wonder you cannot sleep ; 
But stay, and think of the promise, 

The Lord will safely keep, 
And lead you out of the thicket, 

And into the pasture land ; 
You have only to walk straight onward, 

Holding the dear Lord's hand. 

You are face to face with trouble ; 

And did you forget to look, 
As the good old father taught you, 

For help in the dear old book? 

12S 



WdCE TO FACE W: uLE. 

You have heard the tempter whisper, 

And you Ve had no heart to pray, 
And God has dropped from your scheme of life 

O ! for many a weary day ! 

Then face to face with trouble ; 

It is thus He calls you back 
From the land of dearth and famine 

To the land that has no lack. 
You would not hear in the sunshine ; 

You hear in the midnight gloom ; 
Behold, His tapers kindle 

Like the stars in the quiet room. 

O ! face to face with trouble, 

Friend, I have often stood ; 
To learn that pain hath sweetness, 

To know that God is good. 
Arise, and meet the daylight ! 

Be strong, and do your best ! 
With an honest heart, and a child-like faith 

That God will do the rest. 

— Margaret E. Sangster. 



Holy Greenham often prayed that he might keep 
his young zeal with his old discretion. 



129 



W His steps. 

LOWLY with bowed head I walked, 
And life seemed dark to me ; 
I knew the clouds overhead 
No sun my eyes could see. 

But as I walked, beside my path 

I saw a flow'ret rare, 
And stopped to pick the earth-born star 

Amid the wild vines there. 

While as I stopped my fingers pressed 

Another by its side, 
And step by step I seemed to find 

My path-way glorified. 

In quick surprise I looked ahead, 

And knew my Lord was there : 
Every where His feet had pressed, 

A flower was springing fair. 

And while my hands with blossoms filled, 

I clasped in love the while, 
He turned with eyes of tenderness, 

And waited with a smile. 

"Ah, timid one, could you not trust 

My love for you ?" He said ; 
And then were scattered all my clouds, 

And sunlight came instead. 

And often times since then He's come, 

To deck my path with flowers, 
And brought me with his hand of love 

A joy 'mid falling showers. 

— E. H. Shannon. 

130 



POTHGE W WAITING. 

M STAND erect and look ahead, 
|rt A shining goal I see, 
^ Just how, or what, I do not know, 
But know that it's enough for me. 

And thus I struggle sore and long 

That shining goal to reach, 
But mind seems dumb, and tongue seems numb, 

I cannot teach or preach. 

And then I would my hands employ, 

My way to work along, 
But find alas ! my hands are tied, 

Then plaintive is my song. 

Then I with willing feet would run, 

But find, they too are fast, 
I cannot even creep along — 

And time is flying past. 

But then I heard a gentle voice, 

From heav'n 'twas surely sent, 
So full of love and sympathy 

It stilled my discontent 

It said not much — but " Only wait 

Till I have wrought in thee 
A work sufficient for thy need, 

Then on thy course canst flee. 

131 



XACAVLAY'3 TRIBVTE TO EI8 SIOTBEM, 

"Then thou shalt win the longed-for race 

And serve thy Master well, 
And angels of the God in heaven 

Shall on thy waiting tell. 

"And thou shalt conqueror be at last, 

"When pain and work are o'er ; 
And then in heav'n with all that serve 

Shall reign forevermore." 

— Cora M. Fowler. 



flAGHU LAY'S TRIBUTE 10 HIS WW. 

JHILDREN, look in those eyes, listen to that dear 
voice, notice the feeling- of a single touch that is 
bestowed upon you by that hand! Make much of 
it while yet you have the most precious of all gifts, a 
loving mother. Read the unfathomable ]ove of those 
eyes, the kind anxiety of that tone and look, however 
slight your pain. In after life you may have friends ;but 
never will you have again the inexpressible love and 
gentleness lavished upon you which none but a mother 
bestows. Often do I sigh in the struggle with the 
hard, uncaring world for the sweet, deep security I felt 
when, of an evening, nestled in her bosom, I listened 
to some quiet tale suitable to my age, read in her un- 
tiring voice. Never can I forget her sweet glances 
cast upon me when I appeared asleep; never her kiss 
of peace at night. Years have passed away since we 
laid her beside my father in the church yard; yet still 
her voice whispers from the grave, and her eye watches 
over me, as I visit spots long since hallowed to the 
memory of my mother. 

132 



MY STRENGTH 

W SAT in the deep'ning twilight, 

With faith that was weak and dim, 
^ The dear Lord stood beside me ; 
But I had no thought of Him ; 
My spirit was weary of sinning, 

But my blind faith could not see 
The love of a pitying Saviour, 
E'en then so near to me. 

And looking on all the failures, 

The wrong and sin of the day, 
The many times I have left my Lord 

For the broad and sinful way 
"How can I be His disciple, 

His child ?" I wearily cried, 
And unto my sorrows and weakness 

My Savior gently replied : 

" Child, is it thy strength that shall conquer 

This daily temptation and sin ? — 
Thy righteousness that shall kelp thee 

Life's victories bravely to win ? 
Trust not in thyself ; when thou 'rt weary 

And longing from sin to be free, 
Look upward for help through the trial, 

My grace is sufficient for thee ! " 

Then I turned away in th€ twilight, 
With faith growing strong and deer ; 

133 



A CATECHISM, 

I had not known through the weary day 
That the Lord had been so near. 

And now when my spirit is weary 
And my way I cannot see, 

I think of the loving, helpful words 
That the dear Lord said to me. 

I whisper them over and over, 

Fresh courage they lend to the day, 
And morning, and noontime, and evening 

Make bright with hope's sunshine my way, 
Still with faith that no longer is troubled, 

His dear face I no longer can see, 
I know tho' my strength is but weakness, 

His grace is sufficient for me. 



— M. L. Bray. 



JD you ever see a counterfeit ten dollar bill? Yes. 
Why was it counterfeited ? Because it was worth 
counterfeiting. Was the ten dollar bill to blame? 
No. 

Did you ever see a scrap of brown paper counter- 
feited? No. Why? Because it was not worth coun- 
terfeiting. 

Did you ever see a counterfeit Christian? Yes, lots 
of them. Why was he counterfeited? Because he was 
worth counterfeiting. Was he to blame? No. 

Did you ever see a counterfeit infidel? No; never. 
Why? You answer. I am through. 



134 



TRUST W G00 «H0 0@ THE RIGHT. 

iOURAGE, brother, do not stumble, 
Though thy path be dark as night ; 
There's a star to guide the humble ; — 
"Trust in God and do the right.'' 3 

Let the road be rough and dreary, 

And it's end far out of sight, 
Foot it bravely ! strong or weary, 

"Trust in God and do the right." 

Perish policy and cunning ! 

. Perish all that fears the light ! 
Whether losing, whether winning, 
"Trust in God and do the right." 

Trust no party, sect, or faction ; 

Trust no leaders in the fight ; 
But in every word and action 

"Trust in God and do the right." 

Trust no lovely forms of passion, 

Friends may look like angels bright ; 

Trust no custom, school, or fashion, 
"Trust in God and do the right." 

Simple rule, and safest guide, 
Inward peace and inward might, 

Star upon our path abiding, 

"Trust in God and do the right." 

Some will hate thee, some will love thee, 
Some will flatter, some will slight ; 

Cease from man and look above thee, 
"Trust in God and do the right." 



135 



STRENGTH @P GtfJHWGTO 

#E mistake strong feeling for strong character. 
A man who bears all before him — befoie whose 
"■ ^ frown domestics tremble, and whose bursts of 
fury make the children of the house quake — because he 
has his will obeyed, and his own way in all things, we 
call him a strong man. The truth is, he is a v/eak 
man ; it is his passions that are strong ; he, mastered 
by them is weak. You must measure the strength of 
a man by the strength of the feelings he subdues, not 
the power of those which subdue him. Hence, com- 
posure is very often the highest result of strength. 
Did we ever see a man receive a flat grand insult, and 
only grow pale and then reply quietly? That was a 
man physically strong. Or did we ever see a man in 
anguish, stand as if carved out of solid rock, master- 
ing himself, or one bearing a hopeless daily trial, remain 
silent and never tell the world what it was that cank- 
ered his home peace? 

That is strength. He, who, with strong passions, 
remains chaste — he, who, keenly sensitive, with manly 
power of indignation in him, can be provoked, yet can 
restrain himself and forgive — these are strong men, 
spiritual heroes. 

— F. W. Robertson, 



As sure as God puts His children in the furnace, he 
will be in the furnace with them. 

— C. H. Spurgeon. 
136 



H0ME FIRST. 

JiET home stand first before all things. No matter 

how high your ambition may transcend its duties, 

no matter how far your talents or your influence 

may reach beyond its doors, before every thing else 

build up a kind home ! Be not its slave ; be its minister. 

Let it not be enough that it is swept and garnished, 
that its silver is brilliant, that its food delicious, but 
feed the life in it, feed the truth in it, feed thought and 
aspiration, feed all charity and gentleness in it. 

Then from its walls shall come forth the true woman 
and the true man, who shall together rule and bless 
the land. 

Is it an overwrought picture? We think not. 

What honor can be greater than to found such a 
home? What dignity higher than to reign its undis- 
puted and honored mistress ? W T hat is the ability to 
speak from a public platform to a large audience, or 
the wisdom that may command a seat on the judge's 
bench, compared to that which can insure and preside 
over a true home that husband and children ' 'rise and 
call her blessed?" 

To be the guiding star, the ruling spirit, in such a 
position, is higher honor than to rule an empire. 



It is one of the easiest, as one of the meanest things 
to be funny at other folk's expense. 

137 



1 n « wsrld 0p Work. 

ORK t 



ORK will never cease with me till coffin lids are 
KfSf screwe d down. It may be here or it may be 
somewhere else, but under God's providence I 
am going' to work out my life. Let me see the man 
who will stop me. As long as there is sympathy for 
the discouraged, patience for the impatient, love for 
the unloved, a tongue for those who cannot speak, so 
long as there are men who need God and cannot see 
Him, so long I'll do God's work among the poor and 
needy in this world. I never sought a high place; I 
was sent here by Providence, and Providence has kept 
me here. I shall stay here or go, by God's providence ; 
live or die when God calls me. Living or dying, I am 
the Lord's. My question is simply this: ''Lord, what 
wilt thou have me to do ?" That I mean to do, though 
there were ten thousand devils in the way. Hell and 



the devil can't stop me. 



-Henry Ward Beecher. 



BUILDING. 

fOULS are built as temples are — 
Sunken deep, unseen, unknown, 
Lies the sure foundation stone. 
Then the courses framed to bear, 
Lift the cloisters pillared fair. 
Last of all the airy spire, 
Soaring heavenward, higher and higher, 
Nearest sun and nearest star. 

138 



BUILDING* 

Souls are built as temples are—* 
Inch by inch in gradual rise 
Mount the layered masonries. 
Warring questions have their day, 
Kings arise and pass away, 
Labors vanish one by one, 
Still the temple is not done, 
Still completion seems afar. 

Souls are built as temples are* — 
Here a carving rich and quaint, 
There the image of a saint ; 
Here a deep-hued pane to tell 
Sacred truth or miracle ; 
Every little helps the much. 
Every careful, careless, touch 
Adds a charm or leaves a scar. 

Souls are built as temples are — 
Based on truth's eternal law, 
Sure and steadfast, without flaw, 
Through the sunshine, through the snows, 
Up and on fens building goes ; 
Every fair thing nnds its place, 
Every hard thing lends a grace 
Every hand may make or mar. 

— Susan Coolidse, 



Prayer is so mighty an instrument that no one ever 
thoroughly mastered all its keys. They sweep along 
the infinite scale of man's wants and of God's goodness. 

— Hugh Miller 



139 



Holy life is made up of a number of small things 
— little words, not eloquent speeches or sermons; 
little deeds, not miracles or battles nor one great 
heroic act of mighty martyrdom, make up the true 
Christian life. The constant sunbeams, not the light- 
ning; the waters of Siloam "that go softly" in the 
meek mission of refreshment, not ' 'waters of the river, 
great and many," rushing down in noisy torrents, are 
the true symbols of a holy life. 

The avoidance of little evils, little sins, little incon- 
sistencies, little weaknesses, little follies, indiscretions, 
and imprudences, little foibles, little indulgences of the 
flesh — the avoidance of such little things as those go 
far to make up at least the negative beauty of a holy 
life. 

— BONAR. 



JtfE 81(1 0[7 omission. 

|jfT isn't the thing you do, dear, 

m It's the thing you leave undone 

^ Which gives you a bit of heart-ache 

At the setting of the sun ; 
The tender words forgotten, 

The letter you did not write, 
The flower you might have sent, dear 

Are your haunting ghosts to-night, 

140 



SMB BIN OF OMISSION, 

The stone you might have lifted 

Out of the brother's way, 
The bit of hearth-stone counsel 

You were hurried too much to say ; 
The loving touch of the hand, dear, 

The gentle and winsome tone 
That you had no time or thought for, 

With troubles enough of your own. 

These little acts of kindness, 

So easily out of mind, 
These chances to be angels 

Which even mortals find — 
They come in night and silence, 

Each child's reproachful wraith, 
When hopes are faint and flagging, 

And a blight has dropped on faith. 

For life is all too short, dear, 

And sorrow is all too great, 
To suffer our slow compassion 

That tarries until too late ; 
And it's not the thing you do, dear, 

It's the thing you leave undone 
Which gives you the bitter heart-aches 

At the setting of the sun. 

— Margaret E. Sangster. 




141 




7® H801EVE TR^E 8U66E88. 

HAT will assure success? It needs a combina- 
tion of sound elements to achieve true success 
— call it nerve and brains, or over-drawn as- 
surance, whatever you will. The spirit of push, un- 
bounded perseverance, of untiring patience, is a recog- 
nized feature of the true American, and there is no 
reason to mourn its existence, it is a necessary factor 
in modern life. In the midst of the rush and hurry of 
these days a man will be left far in the rear who does 
not make himself aggressive. 

Mere brain power is not enough, there must be some 
means whereby the ability can be manifested. The 
man of mere intellect may be a fine scholar and a 
thoughtful reader, but he can never mingle successfully 
in the business actualities of the world at large. It 
needs a determination to make the world feel the brain 
power of the man, this is the means. It need not be 
shown in a way to annoy or disgust; quietly or persist- 
ently the intellect may be made to influence others. 
The genius of the head may be exerted by the grasp 
of the hand, and the genial familiarity which follows 
thereby. It requires pluck and courage. To wait in 
the lowermost place to get an invitation to come high- 
er is pretty poor policy nowadays. If you don't let 
it be known that you are around some other fellow will 
climb over you and achieve wealth and renown. Keep 
looking onward and going onward. Don't stand still. 
To stand still in business is to go backward. 

-A. H. Revell. 
142 



jm 80NG8 0[? H®ME. 

^HE world is full of wondrous song, 
We pause to hearken, and we hear ? 
fjg$ Forever sounding, far and near, 
Those sweet vibrations, soft and strong. 

Yet sweeter sounds, and far more dear 
Than to the outward sense can come, 
Is memory's music, soft and clear, 
That rings upon the inward ear, 

The loved, old songs of home. 

We catch the music of the May, 

The tender voice of bird or breeze, 

That trembles tuneful through the trees, 
And faint and sweet from far away 

The mingled murmur of the seas. 

Yet sweeter, dearer far than these, 
Though sirens sang across the foam, 

Are echoed through life's silences, 

The loved, old songs of home. 

The old, old tunes, the sweet old words 
That lips grown silent loved to sing, 
How close around the heart they cling 
Smiting its truest, tenderest chords.* 

Let all the world with music ring, 
Where'er we rest, where'er we roam ; 
Not one can touch so sweet a string, 
Or to the heart such rapture bring 

As those loved songs of home. 

— Emma S. Carter. 



H3 



STEP BY STEP. 

jEAVEN is not reached by a single bound, 
But we build the ladder by which we rise 
From the lowly earth to the vaulted skies, 

And we mount to its summit, round by round. 

I count these things to be grandly true, 
That a noble deed is a step toward God — 

Lifting the soul from the common sod 
To a purer air, and a broader view. 

We rise by the things that are under our feet, 
By what we have mastered in greed and gain, 

By the pride deposed, and the passion slain, 
And the vanquished ill, we hourly meet. 

We hope, we resolve, we aspire, we trust 
When the morning calls to its life and light, 

But our hearts grow weary and ere the night, 
Our lives are trailing in sordid dust. 

Wings for the angels, but feet for the men, 
We must borrow the wings to find the way — 

We may hope, and resolve, and aspire and pray, 
But our feet must rise, or we fall again. 

Only in dream, is the ladder thrown 

From the weary earth, to the sapphire wall ; 

But the dreams depart, and the visions fall, 
And the sleeper awakes on his pillow of stone. 

Heaven is not reached by a single bound, 
But we build the ladder by which we rise 

From the lowly earth to the vaulted skies, 

And we mount to the summit, round by round. 

—J. G. Holland. 

144 




70 Y©U|sJG w 

"SOWING WILD OATS," OR WHAT SHALL THE HARVEST BE? 

f||| HEN a man sows in the natural world 
§m he expects to reap. There is not a 
-^ farmer who goes out to sow, but ex- 
pects a harvest. Another thing — they all 
expect to reap more than they sow. And 
they expect to reap the same they sow. If 
they sow wheat, they expect to reap wheat. If they 
sow oats, they won't expect to gather watermelons. If 
they plant an apple-tree, they don't look for peaches 
on it. If they plant a grape-vine, they expect to find 
grapes, not pumpkins. They will look for just the very 
seed they sow. Let me say right here, that ignorance 
of what they sowed will make no difference in the 
reaping. It would not do for a man to say, "I didn't 
know but what it was wheat I was sowing, when I 
sowed tares." That makes no difference. If I go out 
and sow tares thinking that it is wheat, I 've got to 
gather tares all the same. That is a universal law. If 
a man learns the carpenter's trade, he don't expect to 
be a watch-maker, he expects to be a carpenter. The 
man who goes to college and studies hard, expects to 
reap for those long years of toil and labor. It is the 
same in the spiritual world. Whatsoever a man or a 
nation sows, he and they must reap. The reaping- time 
will come. Men may think God is winking at sin now- 
a-days, and isn 't going to punish it, because he does 
not execute his judgments speedily; but be not deceiv- 

14.5 



TO TOUNG MEN. 



ed, God is not mocked, and whatsoever a man soweth 
that shall he also reap. I tremble for those young men 
who laugh in a scoffing way and say, "I am sowing 
my wild oats." You have got to reap them. There are 
some before me now reaping them, who only a few 
years ago were scoffing in the same way. The rich 
man who fared luxuriously, while the poor man sat at 
his gate, and the dogs came and licked his sores, the 
reaping time has come for him now. He would gladly 
change place with that beggar now. 

Yes, there will be a change by and by. Men may 
go on scoffing and making light of the Bible, but they 
will find it to be true by and by. I think there is one 
passage that you will admit is true. You very often 
see in the daily papers, that "murder will out" when 
some terrible crime that has been covered up for years 
has come to light. And there is one passage I would 
like to get every one to remember: "Be sure your sin 
will find you out." There are a great many things in 
this world we are not sure of, but this we can always 
be sure of, that our sins will find us out. I don't care 
how deep you dig the grave in which you try to bury 
them. Look at the sons of Jacob. They thought they 
had covered up their sins, and their father never would 
find out what they had done with Joseph. And the old 
man mourned him for twenty long years. But at last, 
after all these long years had gone, away down in 
Egypt, there Joseph stood before them. How they 
began to tremble. Oh, it has found them out. Their 
sin has overtaken them. Young men, you may have 

146 



SRZ KXEW THF AUTHOR. 

::rr.rr. r.izi z:r:.z ■ id vou ti 

iboutit Don't you flattc 

Gc : : all about it, and be s 

:ut. Your own conscience may turn vlnst 

you by and by. - sap- 

anent ; : ill reap 
c.~i htii. I: yzzi sz~: :: the Spirit yo'i s i.sii rt: : : ~;- 
and happiness and life. The reaping tim 

come. What is tfa . [f you c 

~ t mercy; He delig 

— D. L. Moody. 



I --e -.-:- 

tT is said that a gentleman in conversation 
lady upon the subject of certain of the utterance 
the poet Browni irrpreta: 

of the poet was :: because he was a Erien 

Browning, and enje nal acquaintance. 

rd he chaffed the lady for her faith in the 5 : 
ures, which he said was childish and unmeaning. 
you forget, was the reply, "That I am acquainted 
with the author." It is this acquaints:. : - 
that maiti his word sc true sc precious so com: 
ing to the devout believer. If we know God, 
surely recognize his word. 

_ be man who depends on the spur of the mom 
often discc t particular moment h: our. 



FORGIVENESS, 

SIOTHING is harder than to forgive a malicious 
||| wrong, a harm done us, in a matter where we 
know we are right. 

Sir Eardley Wilmot was an English baronet, widely 
known as a leader in social life, a man of great person- 
al dignity, and force of character. Having been a dis- 
tinguished Chief Justice of the Court of Common Pleas, 
he was often consulted by friends as to perplexing so- 
cial questions. 

On one occasion a statesman came to him, in great 
excitement over an injury just inflicted on him by a po- 
litical leader. He told the story with warmth, and 
used strong ephithets in describing the malice which 
had inflicted the wrong. 

"Is not my indignation righteous?" he asked impet- 
uously. " Will it not be manly to resent such an in- 
jury?" 

"Yes," was the calm reply. "It will be manly to 
resent it, but it will be God-like to forgive it." 

The answer was so unexpected and so convincing 
that the statesman had not another word to say. He 
afterward confessed to a friend that Sir Eardley's words 
caused his anger to suddenly depart, leaving him a dif- 
ferent and a much better man. 



Spiritual life is strong just in the proportion in which 
it can propagate itself, and inoculate others with its es- 
sential power. 

148 



/S\©THER'8 WHY. 



>FT within our little cottage, 
As the shadows gently fall, 
^ While the sunlight touches softly 

One sweet face upon the wall, 
Do we gather close together, 

And in hushed and tender tone, 
Ask each other's full forgiveness 
For the wrong that each has done< 
Should you wonder why this custom 

At the ending of the day, 
Eye and voice would quickly answer, 
11 It was once our mother's way." 

If our home be bright and cheery, 

If it holds a welcome true, 
Opening wide its door of greeting 

To the many not the few ; 
If we share our Father's bounty 

With the needy, day by day, 
'Tis because our hearts remember, 

"This was mother's way." 

Sometimes when our hearts grow weary, 

Or our task seems very long, 
When our burdens look too heavy, 

And we deem the right all wrong, 
Then we gain a new, fresh courage, 

As we rise and brightly say, 
"Let us do our duty bravely, 

This was our dear mother's way." 

149 




WHATEVER YOU DO, BO CHEERFULLY. 

Thus we keep the memory precious, 
While we never cease to pray, 

That at last, when lengthening shadows 
Mark the evening of life's day, 

They may find us waiting calmly, 
"To go home our mother's way." 



WHATEVER i@[) 198. M GHEERfFUliliY. 

WHATEVER you do, do cheerfully, 
As if your heart was in it, 
'Twill smooth the way to the goal you seek, 
And give you strength to win it. 
For little of silver or gold you '11 get, 
If you make up your mind to frown and fret ; 
Little of joy for a lonely hour, 
If you never have planted a single flower ; 
What though the task a hard one be, 

Still with a smile begin it ; 

And whatever you do, do cheerfully 

As if your heart was in it. 

The help you give with a cheery word 

Is a double help to your neighbor, 
For it puts a song in the weary heart 

That knoweth no rest from labor. 
For little you '11 know of real delight 
If you work for yourself from morn till night, 
And never have a penny to spend, 
Or a loving thought for a needy friend ; 
The thread of life will longer wear, 

If with a song you spin it ; 
So whatever you do, do cheerfully, 

As if your heart was in it. 

150 



ABILITY PI3 0PPBRTUM17Y. 

HESE are the conditions of success. Give a man 
power and a field in which to use it, and he must 
accomplish something. He may not do and be- 
come all he desires and dreams of, but his life cannot 
be a failure. I never heard men complaining of the 
want of ability. The most unsuccessful think that they 
could do great things if they only had the chance. 
Somehow or other something or somebody has always 
been in the way. Providence has hedged them in so 
that they could not carry out their plans. They knew 
just how to get rich, but they lacked opportunity. 

Sit down by one who thus complains and ask him to 
tell you the story of his life. Before he gets half 
through, he will give you the occasion to ask him, 
' ' Why didn't you do so at the time ? Why didn't you 
stick to that piece of land and improve it, or to that 
business and develop it? Is not the present owner of 
that property rich? Is not the man who took up the 
business you abandoned successful?" He will proba- 
bly reply: "Yes, that was an opportunity; but I did not 
think so then. I saw it when it was too late." In tell- 
ing his story he will probably say, of his own accord, 
half a dozen times, u If I had known how things were 
going to turn, I might have done as well as Mr. A. 
That farm of his was offered to me. I knew that it was 
a good one, and cheap, but I knew that it would re- 
quire a great deal of hard work to get it cleared and 
fenced, to plant trees, vines, etc., and to secure water 

151 



miTF AXTD OPPORTUNITY. 

for irrigation. I did not like to undertake it. I am 
sorry that I didn't. It was one of my opportunities." 

The truth is, God gives to all of us ability and op- 
portunity enough to enable us to be moderately suc- 
cessful. If we fail, in ninety-five cases out of a hun- 
dred it is our own fault. We neglect to improve our 
talents with which our Creator endowed us, or we fail 
to enter the door He opened for us. A man cannot ex- 
pect his whole life shall be made up of opportunities, 
that they will meet him at regular intervals as he goes 
on, like milestones by the road side. Usually he has 
one or two, and if he neglects them, he is like a man 
who takes the wrong road where several meet. The 
further he goes the worse he fares. 

A man's opportunity usually has some relation to his 
ability. It is an opening for a man of his talents and 
means. It is an opening for him to use what he has, 
faithfully and to the utmost. It requires toil, self-de- 
nial and faith. If he says, "I want a better opportu- 
nity than that, I am worthy of a higher position than 
it offers;" or if he says, "I won't work as hard and 
economize as closely as that opportunity demands," 
he may, in after years, see the folly of pride and indo- 
lence. 

There are young men all over the land who want to 
get rich, and yet they scorn such opportunities as A. 
T. Steward and Commodore Vanderbilt improved. 
They want to begin, not as these men did, at the bot- 
tom of the ladder, but half way up. They want some- 
body to give them a lift, or carry them up in a balloon, 

152 



IT C 'AN NOT BE DONE, 

so that they can avoid the early and arduous struggles 
of the majority of those who have been successful. No 
wonder that such men fail, and then complain of Prov- 
idence. Grumbling is usually a miserable expedient 
that people resort to, to drown the reproaches of con- 
science. They know that they have been foolish, but 
they try to persuade themselves they have been unfort- 
unate. 



17 gppt be mm, 

ATHER up my influence and bury it with me, 
were the dying words of a young man to the 
weeping friends at his bedside. What a wish is 
this ? What a deep anguish of heart there must have 
been as the young man reflected upon his past life — a 
life which had not been what it should have been. With 
what deep regrets must his very soul have been filled 
as he thought of those young men he had influenced 
for evil; influences which he felt ought to be eradicated, 
and which led him faintly, but pleadingly, to breathe 
out such a dying request, ' 'Gather up nr r influence 
and bury it with me." 

Young men, the influence of your lives for good or 
evil cannot be gathered up by your friends after death, 
no matter how earnestly you may plead. Then, re- 
member, your influence is now going out from you; 
you alone are now responsible; you have now the pow- 
er to govern and shape it. Then live noble, true, he- 
roic, God-like lives. 

153 



HER HERB Q©T TURNED. 

\Y way of telling what effect the world has upon 
women, let me tell what it has done for a woman 
whose name is known from east to west, in every 
home where good literature is seen. About fifteen 
years ago she began to write. Each bit was her best, 
till on the appearance of one novel, a book that stirred 
this country and England, it was said: "The next book 
she writes will be the great American novel; she is the 
best writer of our country." She was the worshiped 
woman of the finest, most learned, most cultivated 
society where she lived. Then she met some gayer 
people in this life of ovation ; more showy, but less true. 
Her head got turned, her ideas and ideals became 
changed, and some portions of her last novel were ex- 
purgated by the publishers as being too suggestive. 
The woman who of all America could have had her 
country at her feet, wears upon her arm as a bracelet 
the collar of the smallest pug dog in the world, given 
her by a senseless fop of Boston. The duties she owes 
her husband if not the husband himself, are forgotten 
in the gay whirl of the world into which her desire for 
a name and reputation have led her. She is a woman 
of the working world. God pity her! 

— Perry Pensell. 



An observer says the less men think the more they 
talk. 

154 



7HEY Were all p©@r bsys. 

fOHN Adams second president, was the son of a 
farmer of very moderate means. The only start 
he had was a good education. 

Andrew Jackson was born in a log hut in North 
Carolina, and was raised in the pine-woods for which 
the State is famous. 

James K. Polk spent the earlier years of his life help- 
ing to dig a living out of anew farm in North Carolina. 
He was afterwards clerk in a country store. 

Millard Fillmore was the son of a New York farmer, 
and his home a very humble one. He learned the bus- 
iness of clothier. 

James Buchanan was born in a small town in the Al- 
leghany Mountains. His father cut the logs and built 
a house in what was then a wilderness. 

Abraham Lincoln was the son of a very poor farmer 
in Kentucky, and lived in a log cabin until he was 
twenty-one years old 

Andrew Johnson was apprenticed to a tailor at the 
age of ten years by his widowed mother. He never 
was able to attend school, and picked up all the educa- 
tion he ever had. 

General Grant lived the life of a common boy in a 
common house on the bank of the Ohio River, until 
he was seventeen years of age 

James A. Garfield was born in a log cabin. He 
worked on the farm until he was strong enough to use 
carpenter tools, when he learned the trade. He after- 
wards worked on the canal 

155 



I 



OU have only one mother -my boy, 
Whose heart you can gladden with joy, 

Or cause it to ache, 

Till ready to break, 
So cherish that mother, my boy. 



You have only one mother, who will 
Stick to you through good and through ill, 
And love you, although 
The world is your foe — 
So care for that love ever still. 

You have only one mother to pray 
That in the good path you may stay ; 

Who for you won't spare 

Self-sacrifice rare — 
So worship that mother alway. 

You have only one mother to make 
A home ever sweet for your sake, 

Who toils day and night 

For you with delight — 
To help her all pains ever take. 

You have only one mother, just one — 
Remember that always, my son ; 

None can or will do 

What she has for you, 
What have you for her ever done ? 

156 



OVERW0RK PB UNDERWORK 

[VERY one has heard of the danger of overwork, 

S, yet few understand just where the danger lies. A 

°^ man can hardly overwork himself if he takes care 

of himself in other respects — secures a normal amount 

of sleep, breathes pure air, takes exercise, and eats 

food moderately. 

The main trouble is that the man who is overwork- 
ing is violating fundamental conditions of health. He 
burns his candle at both ends. 

With good care, a man with good heredity io capa- 
ble of safely doing an almost incredible amount of sol- 
id work. Mr. Gladstone at eighty-three, with no show 
of weariness, carried the weight of the British Empire. 
The celebrated John Wesley did more work than al- 
most any other man of the last century; but he observ- 
ed the laws of health, and still active, reached his eigh- 
ty-eighth year. 

Much of the so-called overwork is the overwork of 
worry, care, anxiety, and haste. These make the se- 
verest draft on the vitality of the system. 

We seldom hear of Quakers dying of overwork, and 
yet they are a very industrious set of people. The 
pupil who has prematurely broken down in his studies 
might have gone on under even heavier loads if there 
had been nothing to fret him in his home surroundings, 
and competion, examinations and scholarship markings 
had no place in our school system. The fact is, work, 
and plenty of it, is healthy in a high degree. 

*S7 



VISIT TOUB PAREXT8, 



And this leads to say that a lack of work, of the 
brain or hand, is highly injurious, Underworking may 
be as harmful as overworking to the brain if not to the 
body. Nations living in conditions in which livelihood 
come almost without effort are in every way feeble. 
Close confinement in prison tends to idiocy. 

Further, when the mental faculties are not called in- 
to action the moral also lie dormant, and the lower 
propensities become all-controlling. In all ages the 
corruptions of the higher classes are due to this fact. 
Few worse things can befall one than to have nothing 
to do. 



VJS1T YOUR PARENTS. 

IF you live in the same place, let your steps be — if 
possible daily — a familiar one in the old home; if 
~' you are miles away — yea, many miles away — make 
it your business to go to your parents. In this matter 
do not regard time or expense; the one is well spent, 
and the other will be, even a hundred-fold, repaid. 
When some day the word reaches you, flashed over 
the telegraph, that your mother is gone, you will not 
think them much, those hours of travel which at last 
bore you to the loved one's side. 



The brightest bow we only trace upon the darkest 
skies. 

— Frances Ridley Havergal. 

i 5 8 



KGgU1E86EN6E iU THE W1|tfE VfyLL 

JfWFHAT know I of what is best, 
%'\/:\!'t Oh. ! my father, kind and wise! 
IxSpol Thy great love is manifest, 

Let whatever scenes arise ; 
Health or sickness, choose for me ; 
As thou pleasest, let it be. 

What know I of what is best ? 

Who could always bear the light ? 
In thy changeless love I rest, 

Knowing well thy ways are right. 
Light or darkness, choose for me; 
As thou pleasest, let it be. 

What know I of what is best ? 

Human knowledge is but small ; 
Trusting thee my soul is blest, 

Kept by thee, I cannot fall ; 
Pain or pleasure, choose for me ; 
As thou pleasest, let it be. 

What know I of what is best ? 

'Tis enough that thou art nigh ; 
Since my hand by thine is pressed, 

Who can be more safe than I ? 
Strength or weakness, choose for me ; 
As thou pleasest, let it be. 

What know I of what is best ? 

Earth and heaven alike are mine ; 
Grace can stand the sternest test, 

Living, dying, I am thine ; 
Life or death, Lord, choose for me \ 
As thou pleasest let it be. 

159 



^ 



A WORTHY JWWI0N- 

ROUNG man! if God has o-iven vou brains, heart 



-*r- 



% and voice, speak out. There are great reforms 
^ to be carried on. The whole nation needs awak- 
ening. Speak out, sir, and your speech will be wel- 
come, wherever and on whatever particular branch of 
reform you choose to make yourself heard. Lift up 
your voice for that which is ' 'honest, lovely, and of 
good report." Not in mere word harangue, not in 
windy palaver, not in grandiloquent spouting, not in 
weary, drawling verbosity — not in jabbering garrulity 
which is heard only when the speaker must be deliver- 
ed of a speech; but in the words of true, sanctified 
earnestness, opening your mouth because you have 
something useful to say, saying it with the genuine, 
unstudied eloquence which comes right from the heart, 
and in all cases closing your mouth the moment you 
have done. 



Do you wish to sow that which will produce fruit? 
Then ' 'cast thy bread (truth) upon the waters (before 
the people) for thou shalt find it after many days. " 
Ecclesiastes n: i. 



160 



THE EARNEST PREHGtfER. 

vj#p|OULD I but preach as I saw the woe 
jlS Wn i cn > like a sea spreads over all below, 

«§|H1 As if I heard earth's weeping millions cry, 
"Give us the light before we faint and die!" 
With eloquence of words and tears, I then 
Would rouse the Church to pity dying men. 

Oh, could I preach as if my heart was fired, 
By gazing on the cross where Christ expired — 
As if I felt the mighty love that He, 
By dying pangs, proved his own love to be — 
How soon would guilty, stubborn souls embrace 
The joyful tidings of redeeming grace ! 

Oh, could I preach as Christ would have me do 
With heaven and hell immediately in view — 
With heart inflamed with pure, seraphic love, 
Like those that wait and minister above — 
What victories, then, would from my labor spring 
To honor Christ, my blessed Lord and King ! 

Oh, could I preach as if I saw the day — 
Dark day of doom, of sorrow and dismay, 
When weeping mercy shall in tears retire, 
And burning justice wrap the world in fire — 
How would the thoughtless and the giddy hear, 
And apathy give way to anxious fear. 

Oh, could I preach as I will wish at last, 

When days and months and rolling years are past, 

And just before me in deep mystery, lies 

The world unseen as yet by human eyes, 

How would I agonize to love to bring 

Mankind in sweet submission to their King, 

161 



H0ME MD IHEflVEfcl. 

^^~;|pY boy was going away from home. 

?/' VA* ^" n a ^ ore ^& n ^ an( ^ f° r a y ear t0 r oam; 
^Sjf=- His plans were many, his hopes were light, 

His heart beat gayly, his eyes shone bright; 

So eager he for the untried way 

Which for twelve whole months before him lay. 

"But you may be homesick, dear," we said. 

He merrily tossed his bright young head — 

"Homesick? Never! Don't fear for me, 

I'll welcome a change of scene," laughed he. 

And off he started without a tear, 

(Though we knew full well how he held us dear.) 

The days went by till to months they grew; 
Our boy was "here" and again was "there," 
Joyous and glad and without a care. 
"Change of scene" he was having indeed, 
And freedom to go where his choice might lead. 

Six months had vanished, and I — ah, me! 

With a mother's longing I pined to see 

My "wandering" boy as the days crawled past, 

Ere the time of return could come at last; 

But there came a letter so full of joy, 

That I thought, "I am selfish to want my boy!" 

He wrote to tell me of his standing high 
On a mountain-top 'neath a sunrise sky, 
Of the wonderful view before him spread, 

162 



HOME AND HEAVEN. 

And the glorious canopy o'er his head. 
And I wrote him back — with steady pen, 
Tho' tears of longing would flow again — 

My pleasure because of his happiness; 
(And I wondered much, I will here confess, 
If in all his absence he did not miss 
His mother's touch and his mother's kiss,) 
And added, "The higher your steps may go, 
The nearer to heaven you stand, you know." 

His answer came o'er the weary miles, 
And it brought us comfort and brought us smiles; 
For the heart of the boy was bared at last, 
(And my doubts of his love flew quickly past. ) 
"Dear mother," it said, "wherever I roam, 
There is no place nearer Heaven than home!" 

And now my boy has returned to me. 

Traveled and wise no doubt is he; 

But he sits with his dear young hand in mine, 

And he looks at me with his eyes ashine, 

And he whispers, "No matter where one may go, 

It is home and mother makes heaven below." 

— Mary D. Brine. 



;E will give our young readers a few rules by 
which they may live at peace among themselves, 
i. Mind your own business. 2. Keep your 
tongue from evil. 3. Do not contend for every trifle, 
whether it be a matter of right or opinion. 4. If 
others neglect their duty to you, be sure you perform 
yours to them. To return evil is wrong. 

163 




W WAS sitting in my study, with my sermon almost done, 
In When there slowly up the stairway came the well known 
^ children's song : 

"Jesus loves me, Jesus loves me," and I, listening, dropped 

the pen, 
For the truth so old and precious, never seemed so sweet as 

then. 

Of this love I had been writing, trying hard to make it plain, 
That people might believe it and find solace for their pain ; 
But that / should be his loved one, and that He my sorrow 

bears, 
Was a thought not fully pondered till that song came up the 

stairs. 

Well I knew that not a lily lifts its cup to catch the showers, 
But drinks in the sun's full treasures though the fields are filled 

with flowers ; 
The mother to her children never gives her love in part, 
But to each and every member gives an undivided heart. 

But somehow I had missed the lesson, that, while Christ 

loves all the race, 
All his love is poured on 7ne, through the fullness of God's 

grace. 
Now I bless Him I have learned it, for it cheers me on my 

way, 
And I ne 'er shall cease to thank Him for the song I heard 

that day. 

— Rev. R. F. Coyle. 



164 



NOTHING to pay ! Ah, nothing to pay ! 



ra Never a word of excuse to say 



Year after year thou hast filled the score, 
Owing thy Lord still more and more. 

Hear the voice of Jesus say, 
"Verily thou hast nothing to pay ! 
Ruined, lost, art thou, and yet 
I forgive thee all thy debt." 

Nothing to pay ! The debt is so great ; 
What will you do with the awful weight ? 
How shall the way of escape be made? 
Nothing to pay ! Yet it must be paid ! 

Hear the voice of Jesus say, 
"Verily thou hast nothing to pay ! 
All has been put to my account, 
I have paid the full amount." 

Nothing to pay ; yes, nothing to pay ! 
Jesus has cleared all the debt away, 
Blotted it out with His bleeding hand ! 
Free and forgiven, and loved you stand. 

Hear the voice of Jesus say, 
"Verily thou hast nothing to pay ! 
Paid is the debt, and the debtor free ! 
Now I ask thee, lovest thou ME ?" 

— Frances R. Havergal. 



All useless misery is certainly folly, and he that feels 
evils before they come, may be deservedly censured, 
yet surely to dread the future is more reasonable than 
to lament the past 

165 



8/MLE8. 

Jj^QW little they cost, and how much good they do. 
What a cold and cheerless world this would be 
without them. And yet we do not have half 
enough of them. 

I believe many a poor drunkard or fallen woman 
might be won back to the right path, if they could have 
kind words, and looks, instead of frowns, cold shoul- 
ders, and hard words. What humanity needs is more 
sympathy and love, to feel that some one cares for 
them. A good way is to give a friendly nod and a 
bright smile to every one, even those we are not ac- 
quainted with. 

I remember once spending the day with a lady friend, 
and during the time had occasion to pass the "kitchen 
help;" as I did so I gave her a nod and smile, but 
should never have thought of it again had not my friend 
told me shortly after that she had a compliment for 
me, and then went on to say that the girl had just said: 

"Sure Missis, and ye have a very beautiful lady in 
the parlor to-day." 

She asked what made her say that, and she replied : 

"Because she looked right at me and laughed." 

"You ought to see how happy she is over it," said 
my friend. 

Poor creature, I knew she was not accustomed to 
smiles. It did not matter to her that day, that her 

166 



ADT1CB, 



mistress had company and she had extra work to do, 
so long as the ' 'beautiful lady" had smiled on her. 

We may not see the reward of our smile so soon, 
but we must sow, if we ever expect to reap. 

I know a lady who is the most successful Sunday- 
school teacher I ever saw. During the ten years she 
has been in our school, she has had charge of every 
department, and with such marked success as to cause 
envy in some instances. 

Do you ask her secret? She simply smiles on each 
one and makes them feel they are wanted right there. 

Dear young people, you may withhold your confi- 
dence, be cautious of your words, not lavish of your 
love; but if you wish to be happy and make others so* 
freely give your smiles. 



H0U<|GE. 

,OYS, if in this world you would succeed, 
You must be brave and true : 
Don't stand aloof and slight your work, 
Because it's hard to do. 
If troubles come and sorrows rise 

Then show yourself a man ; 
Let courage nerve you for your work, 
And do the best you can. " 




167 



dU8T 0NE BflY- 

ought not to be hard to live well just one day. 
|| Any one should be able to carry his burden, or fight 
^ his battle, or endure his sorrow, or stand faithful at 
his post, or do his work, however hard, for just one 
day. Any one should be able to remember God and 
keep his heart open toward heaven ; and remember his 
fellow in need and suffering, keep his hand stretched 
out in helpfulness, for just one day. Yet that is all 
there is to do. We never have more than one day to 
live. We have no to-morrows. God never gives us 
years, nor weeks; He gives us only days. If we will 
fill the little days with faithfulness, the great years will 
pile up monuments and blessings. 



QliD FRIENDS. 

THERE are no friends like old friends, 
And none so good and true; 
^p We greet them when we meet them, 

As roses greet the dew ; 
No other friends are dearer, 

Though born of kindred mold : 
And while we prize the new ones, 
We treasure more the old. 

There are no friends like old friends, 

To help us with the load 
That all must bear who journey 

O'er life's uneven road : 



168 



OLD FRIENDS. 

And when the unconquered sorrows 

The weary hour invest — 
The kindly words of old friends 

Are always found the best. 

There are no friends like old friends. 

Where e'er we dwell or roam — 
In lands beyond the ocean, 

Or near the bounds of home: 
And when they smile to gladden, 

Or sometimes frown to guide, 
We fondly wish those old friends 

Were always by our side. 

There are no friends like old friends, 

To calm our frequent fears, 
When shadows fall and deepen 

Through life's declining years : 
And when our faltering footsteps 

Approach the Great Divide, 
We '11 long to meet the old friends 

Who wait the other side. 

— David. B. Sickles. 



fACH one of us is bound to make the little circle 
in which he lives better and happier; each of us is 
bound to see that out of that small circle the wid- 
est good may flow; each of us may have fixed in his 
mind the thought that out of a single household may 
flow influences that shall stimulate the whole common- 
wealth and the whole civilized world. 

-Dean Stanley. 



169 



OUR MISSION, 



jUR mission, our mission," repeated little Nellie S. 
||J one Sunday afternoon, ' 'Teacher said all, every- 
body." 

' 'What is it Nellie ?" asked the mother who had heard 
the child's soliloquy. 

"Why mamma you see our lesson to-day was about 
Christ's mission, how He came to seek and save the 
lost, and the teacher said we all had a mission, even 
little boys and girls." 

"What is a mission, Nellie?" asked the mother, wish- 
ing to know if her daughter really understood what 
she was talking about. 

"I don't know as I can tell you just exactly, teacher 
told us all about it, but I don't remember all she said." 

"Never mind to tell me all she said, just tell me what 
you think it is.' 

Nellie hesitated a moment, then said: "I suppose it 
is — is just what God wants us to do." 

"Very good, my dear, now what do you think He 
wants you to do ?" 

' 'That is what 1 was thinking about all the way home, 
and I haven't found out yet; but I am going to keep 
thinking and thinking till I find out, then I am just go- 
ing to go right at it and do it." Nellie was right. 
How grand if we all like her would keep thinking and 
thinking, and asking God what He would have us do 
and like her, go straight and do it. 

Some people from a lack of willingness to do what 
is required of them, attempt to deny they have a mis- 

170 



OUR MISSION. 

sion. But upon serious reflection I think all will agree 
they have a work to do, a work God requires at their 
hand, nor will He hold him guiltless who attempts tc 
shift the responsibility upon another. 

It is true a few have been mistaken in regard to their 
mission. 

Paul, at one time really thought his mission was to 
persecute the saints, make havoc in the churches, en- 
ter into houses hailing men and women, and commit- 
ting them to prison. But it was not long before Jesus 
met him and deprived him of his sight; and it was at 
that time when the world was shut out, that God got 
Paul's attention sufficiently to give him his true mission. 
Acts 26: 1 6- 1 7- 1 8. As soon as the change had taken 
place and Paul received his sight, "straightway he 
preached Christ," increasing in moral strength and 
boldness each day until he became the most zealous of 
all apostles. So God wants us as soon as we enter upon 
His work to continually look to Him for a supply of 
strength and grace and boldly proclaim His truth. 

Joshua when commanded to lead the children of Is- 
rael, after the death of Moses, was commanded to ' 'be 
strong and of good courage;" and again the Lord said: 
' 'Be thou strong and very courageous. " Ezekiel, when 
he was commanded to go and preach to a rebellious 
nation, was commanded to speak the words of the Lord 
' 'whether they would hear or whether they would for- 
bear." 

And so we might go on through a long catalogue of 
the names of God's servants whom He has commanded 

171 



OUE MISSION. 



to go forth in His name, doing His bidding regardless 
of the opposition or the opinion of men. 

Right here is where many fail in these days. The 
opinions, oppositions, and ridicule of men, the criti- 
cism as to their mode of doing, hinder many really good 
people from attempting that which they feel called of 
God to perform; but such should remember the prom- 
ises of God are sure, and if He wants us to do anything, 
we had better be about it and leave the result with Him. 

Some are not fulfilling their mission for lack of inter- 
est in their fellow men; others from selfishness; others 
from a love of ease; and a few are waiting to do some 
great thing. But be not deceived; God will never 
waste His grace upon us. We shall never have the abil- 
ity to do great things until we prove ourselves capable 
by obedience in little things. But the cry is: ''where 
shall we work?" 

The very best place is just zv here you are. 

"What shall we do?" 

Do the duty that lies nearest and you will be sur- 
prised how the way will open up for other, and great- 
er things. 

"If ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do 
them." 



O all the good you can, 
To all the people you can, 
%p? In all the places you can, 
By all the means you can, 
At all the times you can, 
And as long as ever you can." 

172 



GliSSB tyUJABER ME, 

Jjj^jl LASS number one, "only in fun:" 

Glass number two, "other boys do ;" 

^n Glass number three, "it won't hurt me ;' 
Glass number four, "only one more j" 
Glass number five, "before a drive •" 
Glass number six, "brain in a mix ;" 
Glass number seven, stars in heaven ; 
Glass number eight, stars in his plate ; 
Glass number nine, whiskey, not wine ; 
Glass number ten, drinking again ; 
Glass number twenty, not yet a plenty ; 



Drinking with boys, drowning his joys: 
Drinking with men, just now and then ; 
Wasting his life, killing his wife ; 
Losing respect, manhood all wrecked, 
Losing his friends, thus all ends. 

Glass number one, taken in fun, 
Ruined his life, brought on strife \ 
Blighted his youth, ruled his truth ; 
Gave only pain, stole all his gain ; 
Made him at last a friendless outcast. 

Light-hearted boy, somebody's joy, 
Do not begin early in sin ; 
Grow up a man brave as you can ; 
Taste not in fun glass number one. 



173 




hmm BEFORE REST. 




3SjH sing to me not of the "Sweet by-and-by," 
So long as there's work to be done ; 
Sing not to me now of the mansions on high, 
So long as there's souls to be won. 
But, rather in clear and melodious strain, 
Let the songs of the reapers on mountain 

and plain 
The echoes awaken again and again, 
As we gather the sheaves in one by one. 

The mansions are glorious, I know very well, 

That the Savior has gone to prepare ; 
I know that the angelic choruses swell 

Rich and sweet on the heavenly air ; 
I know that the streets are of purest gold, 
That the pearly white gates have a beauty untold, 
That the green tree of life doth its blossom unfold 

By the banks of the rivers so fair. 

I know tnat *n yon nappy, heavenly land, 

The dear ones I loved here below 
Await now my coming — a glorified band, 

In garments washed "whiter than snow." 
Their trials are over, their triumphs complete, 
They rest from their labors at Jesus' feet, 
And join in a song of thanksgiving so sweet, 

For victories won here below. 

174 



LABOR BEFORE REST, 

But, so long as the world doth in wickedness lie, 

And time speeds so swiftly away, 
And the children of men in their sinfulness die, 

And Satan claims souls for his prey ; 
So long as there's one I can win "in His name," 
From a life of iniquity, sorrow or shame, 
Or a poor wandering lost one, whom I can reclaim, 

Just so long in this world would I stay. 

No, no ! I'm not weary ; my soul is aflame ; 

The "strength of the Lord " is my stay ; 
For, "Lo, I am with you," his word doth proclaim, 

And I rest on that word every day. 
With the light of his presence for my guiding star, 
I shrink not nor falter in this holy war, 
But, like the fresh horse that scents battle afar, 

I eagerly bound to the fray. 

Oh, glory ! my soul doth exult in the thought 

That He gives me some fighting to do ! 
Awaken, my comrades ! press on as you ought — 

There's a place in this conflict for you ! 
No longer sit singing of rest in the skies — 
Till by scars you can show you have fought for 

the prize ! 
In the name of our King I entreat you, Arise ! 

Press forward — the end is in view ! 

—Mrs. E. E. Williams. 




*7S 



GHEERj7UliNESS. 

JBtHEERFULNESS and contentment are small 
4||j things in life, but they are not to be exchanged 
^ for the wisdom of Solomon, or the combined 
wealth of this entire nation, for they will not give the 
pleasure and happiness of a cheerful, contented spirit. 
What if our road be rough and scattered with thorns, 
does it better our condition to look sad and forlorn? 
Let us be thankful for our many undeserved mercies, 
then we shall have cheerful spirits, and our faces will 
be radient with smiles for all with whom we meet — 
young and old, rich and poor. 

It is but a little thing to do, but who can measure 
the good a smile may do ? The little child will be the 
better and happier for it. The middle aged, burdened 
with the cares of this life, need it, as they toil up the 
mountain height; it will make their steps lighter. The 
aged need it, for in us they are living over their lives, 
now so near the close; and if we are cheerful and smil- 
ing, light will be reflected upon their pathway, in the 
evening of their day from our cheerful countenances. 

— M. A. C. 



Climb not too high, lest the fall be greater. 
Do not throw your opinions in every body's teeth. 
Don't measure other people's corn by your bushel. 
Eagles fly alone, but sheep flock together. 
Defer not till evening what the morning may accom- 
plish. 

176 



WORTHY 0F P7£ 

Z agree that the following is worthy a boy's no- 
tice. In fact, he cannot beat it into his head 
lb#^j too thoroughly, if he hopes to make the fine- 
grained, solid man his mother expects him to be: 

Every time I refuse a drink of liquor I improve my 
manhood. 

Every time I spend a dollar foolishly I am opening 
a pauper's grave. 

Every time I pay rent I am taking so much away 
from a home of my own. 

Every time I speak a kind word I am adding a brick 
to my temple of manhood. 

Every time I buy an article I am encouraging the 
manufacturer or producer. 

Every time I pay a debt I am doing right and help- 
ing to put money into circulation. 

Every time I refrain speaking in defense of a friend 
I prove that I am not a friend. 



VERY day a self denial. The thing that is diffi- 
cult to do will be easy three hundred and sixty- 
^ five days hence, if each day shall have been re- 
peated. What power of self-mastery shall he enjoy, 
who ; looking to God for graces, seeks every day to 
practice the grace he prays for! 

177 



^EAR readers, please allow a few words in regard 
to the preparation of Christmas gifts. I do not 
mean our quiet home affairs, but the public ones, 
those usually given in church. It has been said no 
church will prosper, no souls be saved, where such 
things are allowed in the church, on account of the 
envy, strife and hard feelings usually gotten up at such 
times. 

Shall this be true of your church? If not, be care- 
ful what you do, and how you do. Avoid the spirit 
of striving to outdo others. Do not buy anything you 
are not able to get, because others will do so and so. 
Do not make gifts for the rich and neglect the poor. 
Do not knowingly wound another's feelings. Strive 
to make hearts glad because it is Christmas, instead 
of painfully reminding them of something they would 
like to do if they had the means. 

Remember whose birthday we are celebrating and 
let everything be done in the spirit and harmony of 
such an important event. 



W0RD8 BF UM8l90Jfl. 

E up and doing. "Life is real, life is earnest. ,, 
Negligence now may place the invaluable prize of 
immortality beyond your reach forever, no matter 
how much you might desire to strive hereafter to at- 
tain it. 

— Addison. 

178 



THE PEW GtfURGH. 

tT was an humble church, no stately steeple 
Looked down upon the river and street ; 
^r An humble church, for humble, toiling people, 
Who hither came, with heavy, aching feet. 

Outside there raged the city's ceaseless riot, 
And careless souls the path to ruin trod ; 

Within, amid a reverent Lord's day quiet, 
The little church was set apart to God. 

I saw another sight: than those rapt faces ; 

I saw a vision of the years to be, 
The throng of those whose forms shall fill these 
places, 

When time shall be no more with you and me. 

More solemn than the solemn invocations, 
More joyful than these joyful notes of praise, 

I heard the prayers of future generations, 
I heard the song of far-off future days. 

I heard the wistful penitent's grieved sighing 
In memory of a sad and wasted past ; 

And high above I heard the angels crying, 
" Rejoice ! the wanderer returns at last ! " 

And then I heard the Master, softly saying, 

"O ye who reared this building for my sake, 
Through toil and sacrifice and fervent praying — 
Most sweet to me the gift is that you make. 

179 



IS LIFE WOBTM LIVIW& ? 

"For once I was exiled, bowed with sadness, 
Unhoused, when birds straight to their nests 
might flee ; 

And my remembering heart is filled with gladness 
When those that loved me built a church for me." 



IS MFE W0RTH MVWGY 

fS life worth living ? " Ask of him 
Who toils both day and night 
^r To make a little home for those 
So dear unto his sight. 

"Is life worth living?" Ask of her 
Who, crowned with widow's weeds, 

Doth find supremest happiness 
In kind and noble deeds. 

"Is life worth living?" Ask again 

Of those whose highest aim 
Is to assist their fellow-man, 

Without one thought of fame. 

" Is life worth living ? " Ah ! dear friend, 

Let these good people tell ; 
A better question far is this — ■ 

Is life worth living well ? 



Sins are forgiven through repentance and faith in 
Christ. Sinful nature is cleansed by the blood of 
Christ through faith. 

180 



HELP 7HW 600AES T@0 WE, 

^IS a wearisome world, this world of ours, 
With its tangles small and great, 
fpi Its weeds that smother the springing flowers. 

And its hapless strifes with fate, 
But the darkest days of its desolate days 
Sees the help that comes too late. 

Ah ! woe for the word that is never said 

Till the ear is deaf to hear, 
And woe for the lack to the fainting head 

Or the ringing shout of cheer ; 
Ah ! woe for the laggard feet that tread 

In the mournful wake of the bier. 

What booteth help when the heart is numb ? 

What booteth a broken spar 
Of love thrown out when the lips are dumb, 

And life's bark drifteth far, 
Oh ! far and fast from the alien past, 

Over the moaning bar ? 

A pitiful thing the gift to-day 

That is dross and nothing worth, 
Though if it had come but yesterday 

It had brimed with sweet the earth. 
A fading rose in a death-cold hand, 

That perished in want and dearth. 

Who fain would help in this world of ours, 

Where sorrowful steps must fall, 
Bring help in time to the waning powers, 

181 



GENTLENESS IS CHRIST-LIKENESS. 

Ere the bier is spread with the pall ; 
Nor send reserves when the flags are unfurled, 
And the dead beyond your call. 

For baffling most in this dreary world, 

With its tangles small and great, 
Its lonesome nights and its weary days, 

And its struggles forlorn with fate, 
Is that bitterest grief, too deep for tears, 

Of the help that comes too late. 

—Margaret E. Sangster. 



GENTLENESS IS GHR187-MKENE88. 

l^pENTLENESS is Christ-likeness. Jesus, ourmod- 
Wj e l ln every thing, is a most wonderful model here. 
^ He was rejected by "his own," and betrayed by 
his disciples; he was tried, mocked, scourged, cruci- 
fied; and yet he bore all in gentleness and submission, 
never saying a harsh word or doing an unkind deed 
that would afterward need be repented of and forgiv- 
en ; and when afterward he hung upon the cross, and 
was reviled, he reviled not again, but committed him- 
self unto Him who judgeth righteously. At all times 
and everywhere He showed that his life was subject to 
the commanding power of the religion that He came 
to establish and to teach. Such gentleness is not to 
be confounded with weakness. It is not timidity or 
white-facedness. It is the truest courage, a divine virt- 
ue, the consummate flower of a life filled with the 
power and spirit of love. 

182 



INDUSTRY. 

HE way to wealth is as plain as the way to market. 

It depends chiefly on two words, industry and 

^ frugality ; that is, waste neither time nor money, 

but make the best use of both. Without industry and 

frugality, nothing will do, and with them, everything. 

Sloth makes all things difficult, but industry all easy; 
he that riseth late must trot all day, and shall scarce 
overtake his business at night, while laziness travels 
so slowly that poverty soon overtakes him. 

Industry need not wish, and he that lives upon hopes 
will die fasting. There are no gains without pains ; 
then help, hands, fori have no lands; or if I have, they 
are smartly taxed. He that hath a trade hath an estate, 
and he that hath a calling hath an office of profit and 
honor, but then the trade must be worked at, and the 
calling followed, or neither the estate nor the office 
will enable us to pay our taxes. If we are industrious 
we shall never starve; for, at the workingman's house, 
hunger looks in, but dares not enter. Nor will the 
bailiff or constable enter, for industry pays debts, while 
despair increaseth them. 

Employ thy time well, if thou meanest to gain leis- 
ure; and since thou art not sure of a minute, throw not 
away an hour. 

Leisure is time for doing something useful; this leis- 
ure the diligent man will obtain, but the lazy man 
never ; for a life of leisure and a life of laziness are two 
things. 

— Franklin. 

183 




YOUR BEST ?JliW#Y8. 



:R Joseph Reynolds was one of the 

most distinguished painters of his day, 

H -~" and, in answer to the inquiry, how he 

.-,-_-_ . .'--: attained to such excellence, he replied: "By 
observing one simple rule, namely to make each paint- 
ing the best." Depend upon it that the same thing is 
true in the service of God. He who wishes to preach 
well should endeavor each time to preach his best. The 
audience may be small, and the hearers illiterate, but 
the best possible sermon will not be thrown away upon 
them. It may be the minister is invited to make one 
among several speakers at a tea-meeting. Never let 
him talk mere nonsense to fill up time, as so many 
have done in days past, but let him use the opportuni- 
ty for quietly uttering some important truths. It is 
for the preacher's own good that he should never de- 
scend into mere dribble. Beyond all expectation, he 
may be accomplishing a great work, where his only 
idea is that he is doing a little one as well as he can. 
Our firm opinion is that he often accomplishes most 
when the occasion appears to be the least favorable. 

Well do we remember a young man who was called 
to preach on a certain week-day morning at an anni- 
versary of a village chapel. He was somewhat surpris- 
ed to find that only eight persons were present in a 
spacious edifice; but he gave himself up, heart and soul, 
to service as thoroughly as if eight thousand had been 
gathered together. It was a time of refreshing to the 

184 



XQUR BEST ALWAYS. 

eight, and to the preacher himself, and so nine were 
benefitted! What was the result? In the evening the 
audience filled the place; the rumor of the morning ser- 
mon had been industriously spread by the villagers, 
the scantiness of the audience being a factor in the sin- 
gularity of the news; and every available person was 
mustered to cheer the poor young man, who was such 
a singular preacher. What was far better, there were 
memorials of good having been accomplished in the 
salvation of souls. A brother minister, who was pres- 
ent in the morning, because he was the preacher of the 
afternoon, remarked that if it had. been his lot to con- 
duct that morning service, the slender congregation 
would have taken all the life out of him, but that he 
saw the wisdom of always doing one's best under all 
sorts of circumstances; it would be sure to lead up to 
something larger by and by. Let every young speak- 
er think of this, and threw all his energies into his dis- 
course in a cottage to a dozen hearers. 

— C. H. Spurgeon. 



jjjT is not what men eat but what they digest, that 
111 makes them strongf; not what we pfain, but what we 
^ save that makes us rich; not what we read, but 
what we remember that makes us learned; and not 
what we preach, but what we practice that make us 
christians. These are great but common truths, often 
forgotten by the glutton, the spendthrift, the book- 
worm and the hypocrite. 

— Lord Bacon. 

185 



K IHHMD 8MAKE H? THE B00R. 



R^>^^St 1- 



: are very slow to understand the power of a 
hand shake at the door of a church, mission, 
or evangelistic service. In some churches there 
is a peculiar warmth pervading- the whole place, and if 
we were to look about for the reason, we should find 
men and women at the door to welcome every one, 
both those who belonged to the church, and those who 
do not. A hand shake as they go, and a word of kind- 
ness for those who have trouble or sickness at home, 
a pressure of the hand for the strange young man as 
he comes for the first time, perhaps, into the city. A 
young man said not long since, ' 'I go to such a church, 
went there when I first came to the city, and they seem- 
ed so glad to see me, that I was quite surprised. Two 
people shook hands with me as I went in, and a num- 
ber as I came out. I felt at home right away, as if I 
had been among friends, and as I heard the sermon 
the pressure of the hand shake was still with me, and 
that sermon had a different impression upon me than 
it otherwise would. I believe the hand shake at the 
door was the instrument, in God's hand, of leading me 
to Christ." If we could read the testimony of those 
who have had similar experience, no doubt they would 
be along the same line. If in our church, mission, or 
evangelistic services that are being held in our town 
or city a hearty hand shake is not being given, let us 
see to it. 

186 



THE BURDEN. 

^O every one on earth 

God gives a burden to be carried down 
The road that lies between the cross and 
crown; 
No lot is wholly free : 
He giveth one to thee. 

Some carry it aloft, 
Open and visible to any eyes : 
And all may see its form and weight and size ; 

Some hide it in their breast, 

And deem it thus unguessed. 

The burden is God's gift, 
And it will make the bearer calm and strong, 
Yet, lest it press too heavily and long, 

He says, "Cast it on Me, 

And it shall easy be. " 

And those who heed His voice, 
And seek to give it back in trustful prayer, 
Have quiet hearts that never can despair : 

And hope lights up the way 

Upon the darkest day. 

Take thou thy burden thus 
Into thy hands, and lay it at His feet : 
But whether it be sorrow or defeat, 

Or pain, or sin, or care, 

Upon the darkest day. 

187 



LITE FOB SOMETHING, 

It is the lonely load 
That crushes out the light of life and heaven, 
But borne with Him, the soul restored, forgiven, 

Sings out through all the days, 

Her joy, and God's highest praise. 

— Marianne Farningham. 



MVE P0R S0MEIH1NG. 

JOO many are living for nothing, and indeed 
^fpf worse than nothing. Their lives are aimless. 
^ They aim at nothing, and hit it. They desire 
to simply have what they call a "good time," as long 
as they live. Only let them have what money they 
wish to spend, in such ways as may gratify their un- 
cultivated tastes, with no serious cares on hand, no 
commanding responsibilities laid upon them and no ex- 
haustive drafts upon their sympathies, and they seem 
to be contented with themselves. What a travesty 
this is on the true idea of human life! How dwarfish 
and "dudeish" it is! On the other hand, how noble 
and ennobling is the purpose to live for something, 
something good, something that will touch and impress 
other lives and enrich them with blessings! 

The eloquent Dr. Chalmers gave voice to these 
weighty words: "Oh, man immortal, live for some- 
thing, live for something! Do good and leave behind 
you a monument of virtue that the storms of time can 
never destroy. Write your name, by kindness, love 
and mercy, on the hearts of thousands you come in con- 



BROAD ROAD. 

tact with, year by year, and you will never be forgot- 
ten. No, your name, your deeds will be as legible on 
the hearts you leave behind you, as the stars on the 
brow of the morning. Good deeds will shine as bright- 
ly on the earth as the stars of heaven." How such a 
life calls out and dignifies all cf the better and finer 
elements of one's manhood! A young man or a young 
woman cannot live for something high and helpful 
without rapidly growing beautiful in moral character. 
Such a life gives tone and splendid quality to one's acts 
and whole career, and when he dies he leaves behind 
him impressions and fruits which will live on the lives 
of others with increasing power. 

— C. H. Wetherbee. 



BR0RE) R0A0. 

|ff T is hard to be charitable toward those who do not 
I believe exactly as we do. Many times we are dis- 
^ posed to be very much put out with those who do 
not see the world just as we see it. Whether we are 
right or wrong, our best plan will not be to denounce 
and upbraid them, but rather to spend our time and 
energy in praying that we both may be able to see all 
things as God would have us. Unquestionably that is 
easier to talk about than to practice: but God will give 
to his children that spirit of love and tenderness to- 
ward all his creatures that will enable a child of God 
to be Christ-like even when he cannot agree with those 
with whom he comes in contact. 

189 



f If HEN a man 'aint got a cent, and he's feelin 
1| kind o' blue, 

rj An' the clouds hang dark and heavv, an' won't 
let the sunshine through, 
Its a great thing, oh, my brethren, for a feller just to 

lay 
His hand upon your shoulder in a friendly sort o' way ! 

It makes a man look curious ; it makes the tear-drops 
start, 
You can sort o' feel a flutter in the region of your 

heart. 
You can't look up and meet his eyes ; you don't know 

what to say, 
When his hand is on your shoulder in a friendly sort 
o' way ! 

O, the world's a curious compound, with its honey and 

its gall, 
With its cares and bitter crosses ; but a good world 

after all. 
And a good God must have made it — leastways that's 

what I say 
When a hand rests on my shoulder in a friendly sort 
o' way ! 



Good thoughts are not lost though they are not 
practiced. 



190 



S0ME KISSES P0 SWliES, 

^HERE are beautiful songs that have never been sung — 
^nip That never were uttered by the pen or tongue, 
^p They are waiting in silence a magical word 

From the heart of the poet, that has not been heard. 
Sometime they will come from the echoes in store 
And thrill with their rapture a desolate shore. 

Then, hearts that have languished in sorrow and grief 
Shall spring from their ashes to happy relief. 

There are kisses untaken, like beautiful gems, 

That linger on lips like sweet fruit on the stems, 
Those lips may grow pale in the whirlwind of time 
And lose the sweet flushes of their young, sunny prime. 

They may pass from our view like the rainbow's bright gleams, 

But oft they'll return to our spirit in dreams, 
And bring their sweet kisses, untasted before, 
To thrill our sad hearts on this time-beaten shore. 

Bright smiles have been wasted ; their glory unseen, 
Have lingered awhile like the bright sunny sheen 

That falls on the mountains so hoary and old, 

To lend them a mantle of glory and gold, 
Transforming the faces of the dark gloomy sod 
Into beauty and grace, like the smile of a god. 

Those smiles that are wasted — by desert winds tossed — 

Shall gladden our souls, for they have not been lost. 




191 



TH^GtfTS ?m MOTHERS. 

fEAR mothers, in your zeal to reprove the children 
for wrong-doing, do not forget to commend them 
when they do well. The thought that this or 
that act will grieve or please mother, is a strong incen- 
tive on one hand to well-doing, or on the other a 
check on evil-doing-. Commendation should be of such 
a nature as to build up a child's self-respect, and not 
such as to make him vain, else the good effect will be 
lost. The love of approbation is natural; God has 
planted it in the human heart, consequently it has its 
uses. It followes then, if a mother does not make use 
of this divinely planted feeling, she wrongs the Creator 
of the human heart, as well as the child given her. 
Approbation may be expressed by approving words, 
smiles, or rewards. You remember the anecdote of 
Benjamin West, whose mother kissed him for one of 
his earliest efforts with the pencil. "That kiss," said 
he, "made me a painter/' Behold the life-directing, 
life-lasting power of a mother's kiss! 

Mothers, perhaps the fire of genius lies hidden in 
your children's hearts only waiting to be lighted with 
a word from you. Oh, do not fail to supply it. 



If God were as slow to forgive sins as church mem- 
bers are to forgive offenses, or wrong doings repented 
of, there would be little chance for many of us. 

— C. H. Spurgeon. 
192 



w 



BE^R THE GR0S8 Y@^) H^E. 

t/is ET us be satisfied with the cross we now have to 
carry. Too often we wish that we might exchange 
^ our present cross for one which lies beyond our 
reach. We know not what we ask, when we ask for 
an untried cross in the place of the one which we are 
wearing. We sometimes think if we only had the 
cross which another brother seems to be easily bearing, 
we could get along better; but very likely if we had his 
cross we would want to exchange it for still another. 
Mr. Spurgeon wisely says: "It is folly to imagine, as 
we have sometimes done, that we could bear anything 
except that which we are called upon to endure. We 
are like the young man who says he wants a situation. 
What can you do? He can do anything. That man 
you never engage, because you know he can do noth- 
ing. So it is with us. If we say, 'I can bear anything 
but this/ we prove our universal impatience. If we 
had the choice of our crosses, the one we should choose 
would turn out to be more inconvenient than that which 
God appoints for us, and yet we will have it that our 
present cross is unsuitable and specially galling. I 
would say to any of that mind, ' if your burden does 
not fit your shoulder, bear it till it does.' Time will 
reconcile you to the yoke, if grace abides with you." 
Is not one great reason why Christians bear their cross 
with apparent ease and even satisfaction, because they 
do not chafe under it, but make the best use of the 

193 



AN ARAB SATING. 



grace which God gives them to carry it? The ox that 
is always fretting under his yoke is the one which has 
a sore neck and a suffering head. The Christian who 
is constantly chafing under the burden he bears, is al- 
ways sore and sour, and is always envious of the con- 
dition of those whom he supposes have an easier time 
than he has. He is always wishing that his condition 
was different from what it is. Poor unhappy man! He 
has a great deal yet to learn. He has not yet learned 
the blessed art of commanding sweet contentment in 
the ways of God. Let God choose yo'ur cross and 
then bear it with praise to him. 



■Rev. C. H. Wetkerbee. 



£N PR^B SWING. 



tEMEMBER, three things come not back 
The arrow sent upon its track — 
It will not swerve, it will not stay 
Its speed ; it flies to wound or slay. 

The spoken word, so soon forgot 
By thee ; yet it has perished not ; 
In other hearts ' tis living still, 
And doing work for good or ill. 

And the lost opportunity, 

That cometh back no more to thee ; 

In vain thou weepest, in vain dost yearn, 

These three will never more return. 

194 



REGRESS FRWNE88. 

a HERE is a class of people who pride themselves 
on their honesty and frankness, because, as they 
tell us, they "say just what they think, " throwing 
out their opinions right and left, just as they happen 
to feel, no matter where they may strike, or whom 
they may wound. This boasted frankness, however, 
is not honesty, but is rather miserable impertinence 
and reckless cruelty. 

We have no right to say what we think unless we 
think kindly, and lovingly, no right to unload our jeal- 
ousies, envies, bad humor and miserable spites upon 
the hearts of our neighbors. 

If we must be bad tempered, we should at least keep 
our ugliness locked up in our own breasts, and not let 
it wound the feelings and mar the happiness of others. 
If we must speak out our dislikes and prejudices and 
wretched feelings, let us go in our own rooms, and 
lock the door, and close the window, so that no ear 
but our own shall hear the hateful words. 

If any man seemeth to be religious, or even moral- 
ly decent, and bridleth not his tongue, that man's re- 
ligion is vain, and his character base. 



It is not so important for one to know when Christ 
will come again as to know that he is ready for His 
coming at any moment. 

195 



TRUE RES?. 

iEST is the highest condition of man. It is above 
work. For to work restingly, noiselessly, peace 
fully, lovingly, trustingly, is the perfection of work. 
The maturity of everything is rest. It is an approach 
to the Eternal One. For what is rest? The balance 
of the mind — the equipoise of feeling — a harmony of 
the inner with the outer life— the peace of desire — the 
response of the consciousness of truth. And where is 
that rest to be found? All heaven and earth answer: 
"In God — only in God!" Let the years that are past 
speak. They have given you almost everything, but 
one thing is wanting — rest. With many of us life has 
nearly been made up of going from mountain to hill, 
and forgetting our resting-place. A thousand things 
we have learned, and one after another they have thrown 
us off — as if they said to us indignantly, "Arise ye, 
and depart, for this is not your rest!" If there is any- 
thing we have learned in the pages of the past, it is 
this: there may be much pleasure, there may be much 
joy, there may be much love; but there is no rest out 
of God. 

— Rev. J as. Vaughan. 



God never hears the prayer of a man who locks up 
his money before he gets down on his knees. 



Until we have given ourselves to God we haven't 
given Him anything. 

196 



SJMB $m THE RIGHT. 

PE firm, be bold, be strong, be true, 
"And dare to stand alone;" 
Strive for the right, what e'er you do, 
Though helpers may be none. 

Nay — bend not to the swelling surge 
Of fashion's sneers and wrong ; 

'Twill bear thee on to ruin's verge, 
With current wild and strong. 

Stand to the right ; though falsehood rail, 

And proud lips coldly sneer ; 
A poisoned arrow cannot wound 

A conscience pure and clear. 

Stand to the right, and with clean hands 

Exalt the truth on high ; 
Thou 'It find warm, sympathizing hearts 

Among the passers by. 

Stand for the right ; proclaim it loud, 
Thou 'It find an answering tone 

In honest hearts, and then no more 
Be doomed to stand alone. 



WE talk about men's reaching nature up to na- 

m ture's God. It is nothing to the way in which 

L-^^i t j ie y ma y j-gg^h through the manhood up to 

manhood's God and learn the divine love by the human. 

—Philip Brooks. 

197 



w@mp is mans best ?nm®. 

ECAUSE she is his mother. 
Because she is his wife. 

Because without her he would be rude, rough 
and ungodly. 

Because she can with him endure pain quietly and 
meet joy gladly. 

Because she teaches him the value of gentle words, 
of kind thought and consideration. 

Because she is patient with him in illness, and en- 
dures his fretfulness and "mothers" him. 

Because she will stick to him through good and evil 
report, and always believe in him if she loves him. 



OUR BEST. 

'|j|E have given of our best, 

And our merry days are done," 
%j^j Lisp the little leaves that fall 
Like rich jewels on the sun. 
1 'Happy birds we've hushed to sleep, 

Snowy lambs have sought our shade, 
Many weary ones have joyed 
In the shelter we have made." 

"We have kept no songs of cheer 
In our wee hearts hid away," 

Chirp the birds. "To earth and sky 
We have told our joy all day, 

19S 




OUR BEST. 

Happily through the winter's gloom 
Some sweet thought of us may glad 

Eyes that watched the falling snow, 
While the winds are keen and sad. " 

' 'We have glided, oft unseen, 

Giving all the joy we could 
To the parched and heated field, 

To the silence of the woods," 
Softly chime the tinkling bells 

Of the brooklets silver clear ; 
"We have given of our best, 

Since the Father led us there." 

Have we sung our songs of joy 

Unto some sad heart below? 
Kept some kindly word unsaid 

In the year's quick ebb and flow ? 
Have our cooling leaves of balm 

Sheltered any weary guest ? 
Like the birds and leaves and brooks, 

Have we given of our best ? 

— George Cooper. 



199 



MONG the rules of behavior which George Wash- 
ington drew up for himself when but fourteen 
years of age, is one concerning cheerfulness at 
the table; for, he says, "Good humor makes one dish 
of meat a feast." 

The daintiest meal can be spoiled by a frowning face. 
It is bad manners to carry ill-humor to the table,- and 
it is bad economy besides; for bad humor makes bad 
digestion, and bad digestion calls for the doctor. 

Who does not like sunshine better than cloud? A 
little sunshine on a face goes a long way toward light- 
ing up a whole house. Never go to the table with a 
clouded face. The food will not be good if you do, 
no matter how carefully it has been prepared. Some- 
body will catch your cloudiness, and before you know 
it a thunder-storm may break over the table! 

Cultivate good humor, and especially resolve that 
you will "eat no meal while the world stands" if it 
must be eaten in ill humor. 



U N getting rich remember that there are two ques- 
ff tions which every rich man will be called upon to 
^ answer at the day of judgment. The first is, "How 
did you get your money?" and the second, "What 
did you do with it?" 

300 



WH^T WE epr s/hartmess. 

HH FEW mornings since, while waiting at the sta 
tion of a large country town, I witnessed a little 
" T * r ~' incident that I think will interest some young 
people. The ticket agent had gone to breakfast, leav- 
ing the office in charge of a bright looking boy about 
fourteen or fifteen. The boy was reading what must 
have been a very interesting book, judging from the 
reluctant way in which he laid it aside to wait on the 
passengers. 

Shortly after my arival an old lady, oddly dressed 
and evidently not accustomed to traveling, came in ; 
after depositing her bundles, and procuring her ticket, 
inquired civilly of the office boy, "What time is the up- 
train due?" 

"There's a time table on the wall behind you," was 
the surly answer. "You can read I reckon." 

Without a word the old woman put on her glasses, 
and after a long search gained the information the boy 
might have given her in less time than it had taken to 
give his ungracious answer. 

' 7 : 33 — 7 : 33 ? I* must be most that time now, " she 
soliloquized. "Young man, would you please tell me 
what time it is?" she asked timidly, glancing at the 
boy again. 

"Why don't you look at the clock?" sneered the 
smart lad. "My business is to sell tickets, not to an- 
swer questions." 

901 



WHAT CAME OF SMARTNESS. 

An old gentleman, very plainly dressed, who had 
been sitting in a corner with his hat pulled down over 
his eyes, looked up very quickly when he heard the 
boy's impolite response, but he said nothing, and aft- 
er the lapse of a few minutes sauntered slowly across 
the room to the ticket office. 

"What is your name my boy?"he said kindly, after 
nodding intelligently to the telegrapher. 

"I do not know as it is any of your business; but if 
you have a fortune to leave, you can just name Dick 
Horton's kid Jack, and it will be O. K. 

"Your father ought to be proud of such a promising 
boy," returned the gentleman dryly. "Is Mr. John- 
son in?" he asked a little sharply. 

"You can find out by making use of your eyes, I 
guess, " said the boy, glancing around under tables and 
benches, apparently very much amused. 

Just then another boy came in with some papers for 
the agent, and his smart friend said, loud enough to 
be heard all over the waiting room, "Here Fred! don't 
go away till Johnson comes. Attend to the tickets 
if they are wanted, I have been bored to death answer- 
ing questions, and I want to finish this book before 
the boss gets around." 

The new-comer quietly hung up his hat and went to 
wait upon some ladies who were standing at the win- 
dow. 

A few minutes later the old gentleman asked some- 
what sharply, "What time is the train due, Bub?" 

"7 : 33»" Was the prompt answer. 

202 



WHAT CAME OF SMARIXESS. 

' 'And what time is it now?" demanded the same 
impatient voice that had spoken before. 

"It is just fifteen minutes past seven," replied the 
boy cheerfully. 

"Ape," sneered smart Jack. "Why don't you bluff 
him off?" 

"What is your name?" persisted the old gentleman, 
stepping up a little closer. 

"Fred Meyers," responded the boy politely. 

"Is the boss in?" was the next inquiry in a much 
lower tone. 

"No, sir, he has gone to breakfast, but will be back 
in a few minutes," was the quiet answer. 

"Seeing that your master is not in, can't you give 
me cut rates to Wheeling? I'll see that you are net 
found out." 

•'My Master is alwavs in," was the boy's quick re- 
ply. 

Just then Mr. Johnson, the agent, came in, and ad- 
dressed the plain looking stranger as Mr. Hayes; and 
the boys both knew that the superintendent of the rail- 
road had been talking to them, and before they recov- 
ered from their confusion they heard him say: 

"Mr. Knok, your telegraph operator has been ap- 
pointed to take charge of an office in the city, and I 
came down to look after a suitable boy to take his 
place here. Remembering the information you gave 
me sometime ago, I had made up my mind concern- 
ing whom his successor should be, but after what I 
have witnessed this morning, I have come to the con- 

203 



ORDER. 

elusion that Dick Horton's kid Jack is too smart for 
our use, and that this boy whose Master is always in 
can be trusted to take charge of the responsible posi- 
tion. 

Smart Jack tried to mutter an excuse for his impo- 
liteness when he realized what he had lost, but the in- 
dignant superintendent cooly informed him that his 
roughness toward passengers could not be tolerated, 
and that he must seek other employment until he learn- 
ed to apply the small courtesies of life. 



ORDER. 

^T is such a little thino- to keep vour room in order — 
and such a great thing! It is such a little matter 
r for you, and such a great one for your mother. It 
is such a little test of the resolution you make Sun- 
days, to live more as you know you ought this week, 
and it is such great proof of that resolution. Try it, 
boys and girls. Rise early enough to say your pray- 
er, and spend five minutes, even three, in ' 'picking up" 
your room. You have no idea what a pleasant key- 
note that will be to the whole day. 



LL that Christ, our great teacher, delivers to us is 
truth — truth unmixed with error, truth of the 
mightiest importance, truth that can make us free, 

truth that can make us holy, truth that can make us 

blessed forevermore. 

204 



HER818JU ^7 H3^E. 

^OW useless our lives seem to us sometimes! How 
ill we long for an opportunity to perform some great 
^ action! We become tired of the routine of home 
[fe, and imagine we would be far happier in other 
cenes. We forget that the world bestows no such ti- 
les as noble as father, mother, sister, or brother. In 
he sacred precincts of home we have many chances of 
Leroism. The daily acts of self-denial for the good of 
. loved one, the gentle word of soothing for another's 
rouble, care for the sick, may ail seem as nothing; 
ret who can tell the good they can accomplish! Our 
lightest word may have an influence over another 
or good or evil. We are daily sowing the seed which 
rill bring forth some sort of harvest. Well it be for 
is if the harvest will be one we will be proud to gar- 
ler. If some one in that dear home can look back in 
iter years, and as he tenderly utters our name, say: 
'Her words and example prepared me for a life of use- 
ulness, to her I owe my present happiness, " we may 
veil say, "I have not lived in vain." 



EBSHERE do you stand? is often asked concerning 
SW^l the opinions and lives of men. Oliver Wendell 
l^^ri j-} i mes has said, "I find the great thing in 
:his world is, not so much where we stand, as in what 
direction we are moving." A man might be standing 
on a ship that is drifting to destruction. 

205 



7HE WRY T0 REFORM 18 70 REfF0RM. 

BAD habit is overcome by stifling it at once, not 
by gradually breaking away from it. Compro- 
mise is not complete reform; and then, too, where 
the change is not immediate, carelessness is likely to 
lead to laxity, and, finally, to an abandonment of the 
effort to reform. Lord Baconsfield said, ' 'The way 
to succeed is to succeed," and the surest way to reform 
is to reform. 

An interesting anecdote is told of the late James 
Harper, one of the founders of the great publishing 
house of Harper and Brothers. When he was a young 
publisher in Cliff Street, he tried hard to dissuade one 
of his neighbors from drinking. One day when he 
had talked earnestly on the subject, his friend turned 
upon him thus: 

''Neighbor Harper you don't like the taste of liquor, 
but you are as much of a slave to tobacco, as I am to 
rum, and you couldn 't break off that habit any more 
than I could break off from drinking." 

To this retort Mr. Harper made no reply for a time, 
but it sank deep into his mind. He thought it over 
all day, and finally made up his mind that no habit of 
his should be a snare to another. Before he slept that 
night he put his tobacco, his pipe and all the apparatus 
of smoking out of sight on the top shelf of his kitchen. 
It cost him a severe effort to keep his resolution, 
but he made it cheerfully, and did not mention the 
matter until the victory was complete. 

206 



EVERY ©AY H MTTliE. 

fVERY day a little knowledge. One fact in a day. 
How small is one fact! Ten years pass by. Three 
thousand six hundred and fifty facts are not a 
small thing. 

Every day a little self-denial. A thing that is diffi- 
cult to day will be an easy thing to do three hundred 
and sixty days hence, if each day it shall have been re- 
peated. What power of self-mastery shall he enjoy 
who, looking to God for grace, seeks every day to 
practice the grace he prays for. 

Every day a little helpfulness. We live for the good 
of others, if our living is in any sense true living. It 
is not great deeds of kindness only in which the bless- 
ing is found. In little deeds of "kindness," repeated 
every day, we find true happiness. At home, at 
school, in the street, in the neighbor's house, on the 
playground, we shall find opportunity every day for 
usefulness. 

Every day a little look into the Bible. One chapter 
a day. What a treasure of Bible knowledge one may 
acquire in ten years. Every day a verse committed to 
memory. What a volume in twenty-five years! 



|1|IND words and pleasant smiles, are precious jew- 
els that do not lose in value by giving others a 
view of them. Indeed, like precious stones, 
they become valuable only from the enjoyment they 
afford. 

207 



718 E£8Y T® liSBiR. 

? IS easy to labor with hope as our guide, 
M |pfc To beckon us onward and brighten the way ; 
^p To strengthen the heart till all foes are defied, 

And strengthen the arm till all work is as play, 

'Tis easy to conquer when friends us surround, 
Ever sweet words of comfort to speak in our ear ; 

To keep doubt away that else darkly had frowned, 
And keep from our vision the phantoms of fear. " 

But what, when the sweet star of Hope that did guide 
Is hidden by clouds that it may not dispart ? 

And what if the comforting friends at thy side, 
Stand silent or croak with the doubt in thy heart ? 

Oh ! give me the heart that through silence of friend 
May walk in the light, or with darkness may cope; 

Oh ! give me the heart which, if need, to the end 
May even fight on in the hope of a hope. 

Yes, bravely strike forward, though left in the dark, 
Still keeping the course that it held through the light ; 

Yes, strike and keep striking, lit but by the spark 
Which its brave, ceaseless strokes bring out of the 
night. 



Keep up with your profession if you are going to 
follow it. 



208 



THE REVENUE GAIN. 

f|ROUD bird, so noble and free, 

Perched "mid the stripes and stars," 
As ye sit with brave, outspreading wings, 
There's a stain your banner mars. 
Oh ! have ye no eyes to weep ? 

See ye not the blood of the slain ? 
The blood of America's noblest sons, 
Poured out for revenue gain ? 

Proud eagle, fold your wings 

And hang your head with shame, 
That the Christian nation ye symbolize 

Such murderous laws should frame ! 
O 'er a dark and dreadful sea, 

The ensign of freedom waves, 
While the "ship of state" is bearing down 

Brave sons to dishonored graves. 

Sixty thousand a year are hurled 

Neath the terrible flood, 
While government fosters the fearful crime 

And pockets the price of blood ! 
And wives and children may wail, 

And "Rachels" may weep in vain ; 
For the "ship of state" with flaunting sail 

Must take her revenue gain ! 

Wrecked are bodies and souls of men ; 

But what are human lives, 
What are prayers and groans and sighs and tears, 

What are broken-hearted wives, 

209 



I WILL BE QOOI>. 

Compared with revenue gain ? 

For the "ship of state" must sail 
Though her noblest sons sink 'neath the flood, 

And widows and orphans wail ! 

Compassionate heavens, weep 

For the blood of the slain, 
Till righteous laws shall sweep from the land 

This most accursed stain. 
Ye rocks and stones break forth, 

Nor hold your peace, ye hills 
So long as the nation for revenue gain 

The blood of her citizens spills. 

— NAIRJEAN AUU5; ried. 



1 VflfcJi BE GQ0B. 

{T the age of twelve it was thought necessary to 
tell Victory that she was nearest heir to the 
throne. It was done in a very quiet way. A ge- 
nealogical table was put into her historical book. 
When the Princess opened it she read on to the end, 
and then remarked to her governess, "I see I am near- 
er the throne than I thought." 

"So it is, madame, " replied her teacher. 
After some silent moments, Victoria very gravely 
said: "How many a child would boast, but they don't 
know the difficulty. There is much splendor, but 
there is more responsibility." 

She then gave her hand to her governess, saying, 
"I will be good — I will be good." 

210 



•w 



P7 HI10NE. 

jEVER mind where you work, care more how you 
work; never mind who sees, if God approves. 
If he smiles, be content. We cannot always be 
sure when we are most useful. It is not the acreage 
you sow, it is the multiplication which God gives the 
seed which makes up the harvest. You have less to 
do with being successful than with being faithful. 
Your main comfort is that in your labor you are not 
alone. For God, the eternal one, who guides the 
marches of the stars, is with you. 

—Rev. C. H. Spurgeon. 



KEEP ffl ij, 

IN any business, art or undertaking, very little is ac- 
complished without time and perseverance. It is 
^ not the man who rushes enthusiastically into any- 
thing for a few weeks, and easily gives up when he 
finds success is not immediately forthcoming, that 
makes his mark in the world; but it is the man, who, 
day after day, month after month steadily plods along 
confidently believing he will succeed, who does finally 
accomplish his end. 

So it is in christian life. The man who becoming 
converted looks for an easy task before him in accom- 
plishing the complete overthrow of his passions and 

211 



MAKING SUNSHINE. 

perverted inclinations, and becomes discouraged be- 
cause he finds it so hard a task, has overlooked the 
fact that, though the blood of Christ will wash away 
all sin, each one must "work out his own salvation 
with fear and trembling." 

Very little can be accomplished on the spur of the 
moment. A man must begin at the bottom and work 
up. This is the rule of business life, and the rule of 
christian life. Accepting this fact and trusting God 
for final success, no man will fall short of his desire, if 

he only keeps at it. 

— w. m. s. 

E can all brighten the world a little for others, 
, if we will. Even a kind word will often scatter 
the clouds that enshroud some weary despond- 
ent heart. On the other hand, a petulant reply or a 
cruel criticism may deepen the darkness and drive the 
despondent one to despair. It is a solemn thing to 
live in a world where there is so much sorrow, and 
where Satan is tempting the unfortunate to "curse God 
and die." You and I, dear reader, may not be able 
to do much to help save the multitudes that are walk- 
ing in darkness, but we are responsible for what we 
can do, small as it may seem. The thoughtful little 
girl who placed a candle in the window saved a ship 
from being wrecked. We can keep a tiny love-light 
burning wherever we go, and no one can tell how wide 
reaching and how blessed its influence may be. 

212 




G0I3'S HR/A 18 lijW. 

NSWER me this question," says Dr. Guthrie; 
"Is it not as easy for the sea to carry the bulkiest 
ship as the sea-weed or foam it flings on the 
shore?" Is it not as easy for the affluent sun to bat- 
tle a mountain as a mole-hill in the right? Is it not as 
easy for the vast earth to carry on its back an Alps, as 
a grain of sand? Just so, believer, it is as easy for 
God to supply the greatest as the smallest needs, even 
as it was within His power to form a system as an 
atom — to create a blazing sun as to kindle a fire-fly's 
lamp. 



is? m WEW. 

|OULD we but draw back the curtains 
That surround each other's lives, 
See the naked heart and spirit 
Know what spur the action gives, 
Often we would find it better, 

Purer than we judge we should ; 
We should love each other better 
If we only understood. 

Could we judge all deeds by motives, 

See the good and bad within, 
Often we should love the sinner 

All the while we loath the sin. 
Could we know the powers working 

To o 'erthrow integrity, 
We should judge each other's errors 

With more patient charity. 

213 



A WIFE'S SOFT ANSWER. 

If we knew the cares and trials, 

Knew the effort all in vain, 
And the bitter disappointment, 

Understood the loss and gain — 
Would the grim eternal roughness 

Seem, I wonder, just the same? 
Should we help where now we hinder ? 

Should w e pity where we blame ? 

Ah ! we judge each other harshly, 

Knowing not life's hidden force ; 
Knowing not the fount of action 

Is less turbid at its source, 
Seeking not amid the evil 

All the golden grains of good ; 
Oh ! we 'd love each other better 

If we only understood. 



J{ WIPE'S 80fT PSWER. 

H| E were married thirty-seven years," said Mr. 

IPII Gardiner Andrews, "and in all that time my 
wife never gave me a cross word. But I shall 
never forget the time I chided her. It was on a Sun- 
day morning, when we had been married about two 
years. I found a button off my shirt, and threw it 
across the room. 

"Sew on a button," I said, in a brutal voice. "She 
was a good christian woman, and was preparing for 
church; but she got a button and sewed it on." 

"And what did she say?" asked a little bristling wo- 
man, with snapping eyes. 

214 




LET US HELP OURSELVES. 



"She said, 'Forgive me, husband, I had a great 
deal to do yesterday and forgot it, but it shall not hap- 
pen again." 

'Oh, " said the man fixing his eyes on the picture of 
his dear wife, "her gentle words almost broke my 
heart. I could have gone down on my knees to ask 
her forgiveness. She made a different man of me, and 
the world has been a different place since she died." 

There was silence as he finished speaking, interrupt- 
ed by a general clearing of throats, and a confused 
snuffling, as if we all had bad colds, and the little wo- 
man's snapping eyes looked suspiciously dim. 

LET MS HELP OURSELVES, 

WT has been the rule of my life," said a successful and 
|| illustrious man, "never to ask any one to do any- 
^ thing for me which I could do for myself." 

The spirit of mutual helpfulness is lovely and com- 
mendable, it is true. It bespeaks not only unselfish- 
ness, but generosity. But the continual expectancy of 
help, or the belief that certain obligations are due you 
from some person or member of your family, or from 
the world at large, is selfish and fosters weakness. 

We have often wondered why it is Tom's duty to 
wait on Mary, and why Mary is expected to clean up 
Tom's litter, hang up his coat and hunt his hat. But 
children consider themselves martyrs. Would it not 
be much pleasanter for each to do his or her own work? 
It would have the effect in after years, of making Tom 

215 



LET US HELP OURSELVES. 

a more orderly man, and a better husband — should he 
become one — and of making Mary a stronger woman. 

We have often wondered why mother's memory and 
hands must serve for a dozen persons. Would it not 
be better for all concerned if mother's kindness con- 
tained more of self-assertion and less of self-sacrifice ? 
Would not, at times, papa feel less disturbed, nay, 
wrathful, if he were careful to keep his own papers in 
order, and perform the twenty other trivial things he 
has time to do in leisure moments, but expects of some 
one else? Would it not be better for sister to teach 
baby, who is old enough to button his own shoes, than 
to do it for him each morning as a duty? 

The teacher who takes the pencil from a child's hand, 
to work out a problem for him, does that child a grave 
injustice. The teacher should instruct, but the child 
should do the work. We know and remember how to 
do a thing only by doing it. We become strong only 
by self-assertion and self-dependence. 

Trust self; depend upon self above all else. Within 
that self is all you desire to be, and it can only be 
evolved and made manifest by your effort. Help giv- 
en you from outside forces is but momentary, but to 
have insisted on self for the execution of any task is 
to have gained strength and power which will be a fu- 
ture help for the accomplishment of greater things. Be 
sympathetic and responsive; be generous and just, but 
issue for yourself a declaration of independence, and 
stand by it as faithfully as did the patriots of old. And 
insist on those about you doing likewise. This is right. 

216 



! - 1 



ijUST ME THING, 

HERE is nothing like enthusiasm. 



?|bf Enthusiasm is a great thing; it has led many men 
^ to do wondrous deeds of valor, but there is one 
thing even greater. 

The cold determination to fight on, because you are 
right, no matter how dark the surroundings, 

There is plenty of enthusiasm in the charge of the 
light brigade, but the cold, hard courage of the men 
who fought and suffered and died in the trenches in 
front of Sebastopol all through that weary winter was 
something even grander. 

It is a great thing to rush on with a crowd to victo- 
ry, when victory is within reach. 

It is a greater and grander thing to stand fast when 
the crowd has left you and victory seems afar off. 

It is grand to be brave in battle; it is grander to be 
brave when there is nought we can do but to wait. 

The highest charge Paul could give to the christian 
soldier was, "And having done all to stand." 

Fellow comrades in this fight, remember that there 
are more who will throw up their hats and shout in 
charge than there are who will stand in the trench the 
season through. 

Give us more soldiers who are willing to keep pa- 
tiently, earnestly, faithfully at the work all the year 
round. 



217 




»@Wli Bay. 

E garland their graves with flowers, 
We mingle our tears once more, 
For those who have gone before us, 
For those we shall see no more. 



They fell in the heat of the battle, 

They dropped in the morning ray, 
They passed in glow of childhood, 

And we could not bid them nay. 

They fell when the years were all garnered 

Allotted to man here below, 
We followed them down to the crossing 

And felt it was well they should go. 

We sigh, O, we sigh for their presence, 
When sorrow like mountain waves roll, 

When night, sable night settles o'er us, 
And there is no light for the soul. 

O, sweet is their rest from all sorrow ! 
O, sweet is their rest from all care ! 
In their beautiful home with the angels, 
Would God, O, would God we 
were there ! 

— Isaac R. Embree. 



218 



WHEN ft WISE WtyfUty 8MLE& 

fHAT is a wise woman who can smile at a compli- 
ment, be pleased and forget it. 
That is a wise woman who can smile at an insult 
and never see it. 

That is a wise woman who can smile when the little 
worries are coming about and make of them little bits 
of fun. 

That is a wise woman who can smile when she gets 
up, and who can go to sleep with a smile, for in this 
way she greets the coming day, and at the end of it 
she has blotted out the disagreeables. 

That is a wise woman who can smile for her friends 
and her enemies; it will keep the first, and it is the 
best weapon against the last. 

That is a wise woman who can smile no matter how 
she feels. She is a woman who has learned to rule 
not only herself, but will gain domain over the cook; 
and that means she governs comfort. 



WEALTHY man displaying one day his jewels 
|ffit to a philosopher, the latter said, ' 'Thank you sir, 
>7 ^ for being willing to share such magnificent jewels 
with me." 

"Share them with you, sir!" exclaimed the man. 
"What do you mean?" 

4 'Why you allow me to look at them, and what more 
can you do with them yourself?" replied the philoso- 
pher. 

219 



G00'8 WILL IS BEST. 

§ET nothing make thee sad or fretful, 
Or too regretful — 
Be still ; 
What God hath ordered must be right, 
Then find in it thine own delight, 
My will. 

Why shouldst thou fill to-day with sorrow 
About to-morrow 
My heart ? 
One watches all with care most true, 
Doubt not that He will give thee, too, 
Thy part. 

Only be steadfast, never waver, 
Nor seek earth's favor, 
But rest ; 
Thou knowest what God wills must be 
For all His creatures, so for thee, 
The best. 

—Paul Flemmino. 



1|| CERTAIN amount of opposition is a great help 
| to man. Kites rise against and not with the wind. 

"^ Even a head wind is better than none. No man 
ever worked his passage in a dead calm. Let no man 
wax pale, therefore, because of opposition. 

—John Neal. 
220 



B0M7 k®m BX6K. 

1 HE only way to succeed in a religious or any oth- 
W er kind of life, is to decide to do it. To map out 
^ a course that you intend to follow, and then stick 
to it, no matter how many obstacles may block the 
way. The man who says in his heart, "I will try it a 
little way, and if I like it I will go on," will never go to 
heaven. The devil will switch him off the line before 
he gets fairly started. It is like starting a steamboat 
up stream, with no coal on board except that under the 
boilers. As soon as the fire goes out the boat will 
stop and float back. The only way to make sure of 
<Jie shining streets of glory is to say good-bye to the 
world forever when you start. The main reason why 
there are so many backsliders in the church is because 
they never intended to make more than a short walk 
toward heaven to begin with. The only way to serve 
God is to cut the bridge behind you when you begin. 



mw% rest. 

CHRISTIAN lady in one of the religious papers 
gives the following receipt for rest. ' 'There is 
nothing will give a chance for rest to over-tired 
nerves so surely as a simple religious faith in the over- 
ruling, wise and tender providence which has us in its 
keeping. It is in chafing against the conditions of 

221 



WAITS' 8 BEST, 



our lives that we tire ourselves immeasurably. It is 
in being anxious about things which we cannot help 
that we often do the most of our spending. A sim- 
ple faith in God which practically and every moment, 
and not only theoretically and on Sundays, rests on 
the knowledge that He cares for us at least as much as 
we care for those who are the dearest to us, will do 
much to give the tired nerves the feeling of a bird in 
its nest. Do not spend what strength you have, like 
clematis, in climbing on yourself, but lay hold on 
things that are eternal, and the peace of them will 
pass into your soul like a healing balm. Put yourself 
in the great everlasting currents, and then you can 
rest on your oars, and let those currents bear you on 
their strength." 

There is nothing in this world so beautiful and so 
blessed as the repose of faith. 



PATIENCE is a virtue for which there is no sub- 
stitute. There is often no other way out of a dif- 
ficulty than the way of patience. But this really 
is a most gracious way, when the sufferer finds it. 
Nor is it a way which any one need be ashamed to 
take, for our Lord recommends it : "In your patience 
possess ye your souls." He knows that there is often 
nothing left to us but this one thing — patience. We 
must use it; we must win our souls, our very lives by 
it. 



222 



M 0li0 PR0VERB. 

sOUTING, my darling, because it rains, 
W And flowers droop, and rain is falling, 
And drops are blurring the window panes, 
And a moaning wind through the lane is calling, 
Crying, and wishing the sky was clear, 

And roses again on the lattice twining ! 
Ah, well, remember, my foolish dear, 

" 'Tis easy to laugh when the sun is shining ! " 

When the world is bright, and fair and gay, 

And glad birds sing in fair June weather, 
And summer is gathering, night and day, 

Her golden chalice of sweets together, 
When the blue seas answer the skies above, 

And bright stars follow the day's declining, 
Why, then, 'tis no merit to smile, my love ; 

" 'Tis easy to laugh when the sun is shining ! " 

But this is the time the heart to test, 

When winter is here and storms are howling, 
And the earth from under her frozen vest 

Looks up at the sad sky, mute and scowling ° } 
The brave little spirit should rise to meet, 

The season's gloom and the day's repining ; 
And this is the time to be glad ; for, sweet, 

" 'Tis easy to laugh when the sun is shining !" 



God has filled the world with things that we can see 
to tell us of things we can not see. 



223 



"WflRJEMm 18—18 BEST." 

W KNOW as my life grows older, 

And mine eyes have clearer light, 
^ That under each rank wrong somewhere 

There lies the root of right ; 
That each sorrow has its purpose 

By the sorrowing oft unguessed ; 
But as sure as the sun begins morning, 
Whatever is — is best. 

I know that each sinful action, 

As sure as night brings shade, 
Is somewhere, somehow, punished, 

Though the hour is long delayed ; 
I know that the soul is aided 

Sometimes by the heart's unrest, 
And to grow means often to suffer, 

But whatever is — is best. 

I know there is no error 

In the great supernal plan, 
And all things work together 

For the final good of man ; 
I know when my soul speeds onward 

In its grand eternal quest, 
I shall cry as I look back earthward, 

"Whatever is — is best." 

— Ella Wheeler Wilcox. 



The cross we pick out for ourselves is always the 
heaviest 



224 



AUSE not to dream of the future before us ; 
Wjl Pause not to weep the wild cares that come o'er us ; 
Hark, how creation's deep, musical chorus, 
Unintermitting, goes up to heaven ! 
Never the ocean wave falters in flowing ; 

Never the little seed stops in its growing ; 
More and more richly the rose-heart keeps glowing, 
Till from its nourishing stem it is riven. 

"Labor is worship ! " the robin is singing; 
"Labor is worship ! " the wild bee is ringing; 
Listen ! that eloquent whisper, upspringing, 

Speakes to my soul from out Nature's great heart. 
From the dark cloud flows the soft-breathing flower, 
From the small insect the rich coral bower ; 

Only man, in his pain, ever shrinks from his part. 

" Labor is life ! " — 'Tis the still water faileth ; 

Idleness ever despaireth, bewaileth ; 

Keep the watch wound, for the dark rust assaileth ! 

Flowers droop and die in the stillness of the noon. 
Labor is glory ! — The flying cloud lightens ; 
Only the waving wing changes and brightens ; 
Idle hearts only the dark future frightens, 

Play the sweet keys would'st thou keep them in tune. 

Labor is rest, from the sorrows that greet us ; 
Rest from the petty vexations that meet us ; 
Rest from the sin-promptings that ever entreat us ; 
Rest from the world-sirens that lure us to ill. 

225 



SAVE PAXZEXCE, 

Work — and pure slumbers shall wait on thy pillow ; 
Work — thou shalt ride over Care's coming billow ; 
Lie not down wearied 'neath Woe's weeping willow; 
Work with stout heart and resolute will. 

Droop not, though shame, sin, and anguish are round thee ; 
Bravely fling off the cold chain that has bound thee ; 
Look to yon pure heaven smiling beyond thee ; 

Rest not content in thy darkness — a clod ; 
Work for some good, be it ever so slow ; 
Cherish some flower, be it ever so lowly ; 
Labor ! — all labor is noble and holy ; 

Let thy great deeds be thy prayer to thy God. 



HAVE PJCflENGE. 

;H the drudgery of this every day routine! 5 ' cries 
many a business man, and many a house-keeping 
woman. "To get through the day, and to have 
the same round to traverse to-morrow!" Yes, but how 
do you know what use the gracious Superintendent of 
your life is making of this humdrum, as you call it? 
A poor, blind mill-horse treads his beat, hour after 
hour, and it all seems to come to nothing. But the 
shaft he is turning, is geared into others, and they into 
wheels, that in other rooms, above him, far away be- 
yond his hearing, are working out the results that he 
could never comprehend. Wait until you see no 
longer through a glass darkly, and see the unknown 
bearings and connections of your life-work with other 
generations, and may be with other worlds. 

226 



PREVENTIVE PERSIES, 

OD'S gifts to us often excite our gratitude arid 
thankful praise, but how seldom do we remember 
to thank Him for the preventive mercies of our 
life. How often we have to bless God for hindering 
us in our plans, putting obstacles in our way, and pre- 
venting our self-will from triumphing, we can only 
judge by the escapes we make, and even then we do 
not begin to know it all. 

We know the accidents that actually occur, but how 
many unsuspected ones have been warded off? What 
perils have been on our right and left, and only re- 
strained by God's omnipotent hand! When a thou- 
sand fall at our side, and ten thousand at our right hand, 
and it does not come nigh us, then we understand 
God's preventive care, and praise Him for it. But 
is it not even more wonderful when we are kept from 
the very sight and sound of danger? Physiologists 
tell us that every day we have many narrow escapes 
from death. We do not know how often death may 
have passed by us so closely that it scarcely left room 
for a breath between it and ourselves ; we only know 
the events that do take place, the accidents that did 
happen, the sudden death that did occur. The acci- 
dents that we were spared, the perils that were com- 
manded to stand aside, who shall estimate of God's 
preventive mercies? 

We remember the story of a minister who came, 
pale and trembling, into an assembly of his brethern to 

227 



NEW EVERY MORNING. 

ask them to join with him in grateful prayer for the 
marvelous escape from death which had been vouch- 
safed him. On the edge of a precipice his horse had 
stumbled, but had recovered his footing in time to 
save his rider from being dashed to pieces at the foot 
of the cliff. Another minister arose, saying that he 
just had a still greater manifestation of God's mercy ; 
in coming over the same place his horse had not even 
stumbled. If we but remember, when we enumerate 
our blessings, that God's preventive mercies towards 
us are more in number than the sands of the seashore, 
our hearts will overflow with constant thanksgiving 
for the love which ever broods over us, unseen, and 
too often unrecognized, protecting us from evil. 

— M. E. Kenney. 



HEW EVERY JA8IRM1M& 

[VERY day is a fresh beginning, 

Every morn is the world made new ; 
Ye who are weary of sorrow and sin, 
Here is a beautiful hope for you : 
A hope for me and a hope for you. 

All the past things are past and over, 

The tasks are done and the tears are shed ; 

Yesterday's errors let yesterday cover ; 

Yesterday's wounds which smarted and bled 
Are healed with the healing which night has shed. 

Yesterday now is a part of forever, 

Bound up in a sheaf which God holds tight, 

228 



NEW EVERY MORNING. 

With glad days, and sad days, and bad days which 
never 
Shall visit us more with their bloom and their 

blight, 
Their fullness of sunshine or sorowful night. 

Let them go, since we cannot re-live them, 

Cannot undo, and cannot atone ; 
God in his mercy receive, forgive them ; 

Only the new days are our own ; 

To-day is ours, and to-day alone. 

Here are the skies all burnished brightly, 
Here is the spent earth, all re-born, 

Here are the tired limbs, springing lightly 
To face the sun and to share with the morn, 
In the chrism of dew and cool of dawn. 

Every day is a fresh beginning; 

Listen, my soul, to the glad refrain, 

And spite of old sorrow and older sinning, 
And puzzles forecasted, and possible pain, 
Take heart with the day and begin again. 

— Susan Coolidge, 



2m 



THE RIGHT R0KB. 

I s HAVE lost the road to happiness, 
Does any one know it, pray ? 
^ I was dwelling there when the morn was fair, 
But somehow I wandered away. 

"I saw rare treasures in scenes of pleasures, 

I ran to pursue them, when lo ! 
I had lost the path to happiness, 

And knew not whither to go. 

" I have lost the way to happiness, 

O, who will lead me back ? " 
"Turn off from the highway of selfishness 

To the right, up duty's track. 

"Keep straight along, and you can't go wrong; 

For as sure as you live, I say, 
The fair lost fields of happiness 

Can only be found that way." 

— Ella Wheeler Wilcox. 



§T is hard to give, but it pays. Very few quarrels 
but what will be immediately stopped by a soft an- 
^ swer. We feel that it is not always just nor right, 
but it works successfully every time. When you are 
the injured ones and are blamed wrongfully, it is hard 
to give a soft answer; but after all, what need have 
we to care whether we gain the best of the argument 
or are successful in carrying our point? 

230 



HOW TO GROW BEAUTIFUL, 

A soft answer! Christ's way. How much it would 
mean to this world if for one day only every one 
should give a soft answer ! Think of the thousands and 
hundreds of thousands of quarrels that would be stop- 
ped, blotted out entirely, the hard hearts and hard 
feelings made over again, of the coldness and indiffer- 
ence that would vanish. 

A soft answer ! Who is able to give it? Truly 
only one who is in touch with the Lord Jesus Christ 
and is able to carry the Spirit of the Master into every- 
day life and all its actions and all its trials. 



HSW P GR0W BEHUflpUlL. 

WOMAN, famous as one of the most kindly and 
most lovabfe among leaders of the best Amer- 
* r ican society, once said : "If I have accomplished 
anything in life, it is due to a word spoken to me in 
the right season, when I was a child, by my old teacher. 
I was the only homely, awkward girl in a class of ex- 
ceptionally pretty ones, and also being dull in my 
books, became the butt of the school. I fell into a 
morose, despairing state, gave up study, withdrew 
into myself, and grew daily more bitter and vindictive. 

' 'One day the French teacher, a gray-haired old 
woman, with keen eyes and a kind smile, found me 
crying. 

" 'What ails you, my child? ' she asked. 

" 'Oh, Madame, I am so ugly! ' I sobbed out 

231 



HOW TO QMOW BEAUTIFUL. 

''She soothed me, but did not contradict me. 

" Presently she took me to her room, and after 
amusing me for some time said : 'I have a present for 
you, ' handing a scaly coarse lump, covered with earth. 
'It is rough and brown as you, "ugly," did you say? 
Very well! We will call it by your name, then. It is 
you! Now you shall plant it, and water it, and give it 
sun for a week or two. ' 

"I planted it and watered it carefully ; the green 
leaves came out first, and at last the golden Japanese 
lily, the first I had ever seen. Madame came to share 
my delight. 

1 ' 'Ah, ' she said, significantly, 'who would believe 
so much beauty and fragrance were shut up in that 
little, rough, ugly thing? But it took heart and came 
into the sun.' 

"It was the first time it ever occured to me that, in 
spite of an ugly face, I, too, might be able to win 
friends, and make myself beloved in the world." 



"God always has some better gifts for those who 
are grateful for what they have already received." 



The serene, silent beauty of a holy life is the most 
powerful influence in the world, next to the might of 
the Spirit of God. 

232 



fHERE is an ancient legend to the effect that the 
angel of life was sent out to find the place where 
happiness dwelt. He went first to a palace, but, 
the monarch there enthroned wore a golden sorrow. 
Then he flew to a hovel, but as he there heard cries for 
bread he hurried away. Then the angel was told to 
measure the distance between the rich and the poor, 
and in the center to plant a beautiful lily. Then the 
monarch was directed to walk toward the hovel, and 
the beggar toward the throne. Midway they met, and 
there they lived the remainder of their lives in happi- 
ness and peace. 



m» HE consciousness of our own weakness and in- 
firmities, and of our need of the patience and for- 
bearance of our friends and neighbors, should 
render us very considerate in all our relations. In 
this direction, as in others, we should apply the golden 
rule. As we would have others with whom we have 
to do exercise a spirit of forbearance and kindness 
toward us, we should be ever ready to exercise this 
spirit toward them. This is the spirit of the Gospel, 
and its exercise is required of us as the professed fol- 
lowers of Christ. 



m 



H 6URB8T0NE S6ENE, 

jfN the shade of a tree, by the street of a city, 

Lay a tired little boy, with a turf for his bed, 
^ In rags, but no beggar appealing to pity, — 

A child of the lowly who toiled for his bread. 
Beside him stood a hand cart loaded with fuel, 

Bits of board he had gleaned in the lanes where he crept, 
Till the wheels o'er the pavement dragged heavy and cruel, 
And, spent with the strain of his burden, he slept. 

Will any one care, as the many pass nigh him ? — 

A threadbare wood-sawyer, bent, wrinkled and old, 
Caught sight of the sleeper, came near and stood by him, 

And read in the picture the story it told. 
Hungry face, scanty raiment with barely a button, 

Hatless head, naked feet, fretted sore on the stone, — 
He fished out a morsel of dry bread and mutton, 

And left him the dinner he'd brought for his own. 

There were eyes bright and merry, eyes tearful and tender, 

On the watch ere the old man had tiptoed away, 
And some, in that meek loan of love and its lender, 

Saw the angel that stopped where the little boy lay, 
And the soul of that child, through the tatters that wound 
him, 

Drew the soul of the clad and the fed to his side ; 
Young and old brought their blessings to scatter around him, 

And crumbs from the table of God to divide. 

A boy and a man dropped a dime and a dollar, 
Women opened their purses by ones and by twos, 

Willing hands from the mansions, both greater and smaller, 
Brought a hat, a jacket and a stout pair of shoei. 

234 



A CURBSTONE SCENE, 

All stealthy and silent, with gentle conniving. 

They laid down their gifts with the wood-sawyer's crust, 

And lingered to see at the sleeper's reviving, 

His bashful thanksgiving smile up from the dust. 

Soon the little boy woke. Was it bounty or plunder 

Spread out at his feet ? Then a laugh in his ears 
Turned his face where a glance gave a key to the wonder, 

And he clasped his new riches with blushes and tears. 
And his helpers had joy which was tender and holy 

When they looked then and after, full many a day, 
Down the street where the toil-ridden child of the lowly 

With his cart and his treasures had trotted away. 

Oh, hearts that are human, are human forever ! 

You may close them in caste, but they beat through, the 
wall. 
Wealth and want own a kinship no breeding can sever, 

And in sorrow, the lowest are brothers of all. 
Bound love needs the magic of pity to free it ; 

Men only are selfish because they are blind ; 
When the poor help the poor, if the whole world could see it, 

The haughty would blush and the cruel grow kind. 

— Theron Brown. 



235 



If F you have company of your very own ? Ah, then 
ft no pains should be spared to give pleasure. 
^ It is never proper, in her own house, for a girl 
to wear a dress so fine that any one bidden might feel 
her own clothes shabby or too plain. Neither is it 
well-bred to have or do anything simply for show. 

To honor on e's friends, the table should be set with 
the daintiest china and the brightest silver and glass. 
But if one has only plain crockery and pewter spoons, 
then the whiteness of the tablecloth, and the freshness 
of the napkins, and especially the cordial welcome, are 
all that is necessary. 

Never apologize for anything on the table. If the 
bread is not quite as light as usual, or if the cake, alas! 
has a ' 'heavy streak," do not call attention to it. It 
will make a bad matter no better, and apologies always 
put visitors in an awkward position. 

Do not urge your guests to eat. It is proper for a 
friend to ask for any dish on the table. If so be he or 
she is shy, it may be allowable to say, ' 'But are you 
sure I may not give you a bit of the turkey or a slice 
of the ham?" 

If again your guest says, "No, " do not insist. 

If games be the evening's amusement, a hostess 
should be sure that every one is drawn into the fun. 

If a visitor stands alone, quickly, before there is a 
chance for him to feel awkward, go yourself to talk 
with him, or ask some one else to do so. That any- 

236 



LEARNING A BUSINESS. 

body should find himself ill at ease in your home re- 
flects discredit on you. 

There is no wider field for unselfish tact than in one's 
own parlor, and the motto of every hostess should be: 

"Not to be ministered unto, but to minister." 

— Mary S. McCobb. 



LEWING fl BUSINESS, 

GENTLEMAN who had induced a large pub- 
lishing-house to take his son in employ at a mod- 
erate rate of pay, not long since, was especially 
anxious in his request that the young man should be 
put to work and learn the business. 

This instruction was needless, as although modern 
fashion has done away with much of the janitor and 
porterage of old times, yet the young man found the 
selection of stock for orders, packing the same, enter- 
ing, charging ditto and occasional errands kept him ac- 
tively employed for about ten hours a day, with an 
hour out for dinner. 

At the end of three week's time he failed to put in 
an appearance, but the father walked in one morning 
with the information that John would not return to the 
position. 

"Why not?" asked the publisher. 
"Well, John has to have his breakfast early every 
morning to get here, and then he is not used to carry- 
ing bundles, and sometimes he's been sent with books 

237 



LEABXZ&Q A BUSINESS. 

right up to the houses of the people we know socially. 
My son hasn't been brought up that way, and I guess 
I won't have him learn this business/' 

He did not, and what's more, has never learned any 
other business. 

Now let us look at another picture, that of a son of 
a wealthy mill owner desiring to become a manager of 
the mill. 

"But it is impossible," said the father, "unless you 
practically learn the business." 

"That is what I would like to do," said the son. 

"But to become a superintendent or manager we 
prefer a man that has risen from the ranks and under- 
stands the mechanical department and ways of employ- 
ees." 

"Let me begin 'in the ranks' then," replied the 
young man. 

To this the father assented, stipulating that no favor 
should be shown the son, but he should actually begin 
the work at regular labor in the mechanical depart- 
ment. 

Not only was this done, but the young man went 
and boarded in the manufacturing town at a workman's 
boarding-house, and went in and out of the factory at 
bell call. In three years he was foreman of one of the 
departments, and a former classmate and well-known 
society man, calling there upon him, was surprised at 
meeting a stalwart fellow in blue overalls, with hands 
so soiled with machinery oil as to prevent the conven- 
tional hand-shake. 

238 



TBE WOBD 8MB REMEMBERED. 



But this young man persevered, made and paid his 
own way himself, and his father concluded it would 
not injure his future prospects. Judging from the fact 
that he is now manager of mills (not his father's), at a 
salary of ten thousand a year, with ability to command 
even better compensation and partnership, is evidence 
that ' 'learning a business, " even by a man of good ed- 
ucation and a rich father, pays a good return, both in 
money and manly independence. 



THE W0RD SHE REME/1BEREI3. 

pOU remember the sermon you heard, my dear?" 
The little one blushed, and dropped her eyes, 
Then lifting them bavely, with look of cheer, 
Eyes that were blue as the morning skies. 

"I'm afraid I forgot what the minister said, 

He said so much to the grown up men, 
And the pulpit was 'way over my head ; 

But I told mamma that he said 'Amen.' 

"And 'Amen, 'you know means 'Let it be,' 

Whatever our Lord may please to do ; 
And that is sermon enough for me, 

If I mind and feel so the whole week through.'* 

I took the little one's word to heart ; 

I wish I could carry it all day long, 
The "Amen, "spirit which hides the art 

To meet each cross with a happy song. 

— M. B. Sangster. 

239 



I 



MR 80URGE 0|7 EVIL 

HINKING well of a person is one of the best aids 
that can be given to lead him on toward well 
^ doing. One reason why there are so many bad 
boys in the world is because the phrase "bad boy" has 
so rooted itself in the popular thought toward all boys. 
A child of five years not long ago shrewdly observed: 
1 'People don't know that little children are good, unless 
they keep them; then they find out they can be good." 
A child even at that early age, had seen enough of the 
world to know that the prevailing disposition is to take 
it for granted that a child can have no spontaneous 
promptings to right, no noble aspirations to goodness, 
no praiseworthy motives to action. And yet she knew 
that upon a fair trial, without prejudice, the world 
might reverse its hard judgment. The rule applies 
through all ages and conditions, One reason why so 
many ex-convicts are untrustworthy is because they 
know that no one trusts them ; bad boys are bad because 
they are taught that badness is a necessary constituent 
of boyhood. Children and men find it easier to do 
evil when evil is expected of them. 



About the poorest man you can find is the rich man 
who never gives. 



No man has any trouble in pleasing God who loves 
his neighbor as himself. 

240 



MPT8 THRE8H0M8. 

little feet, as yet untired 

By any steps on life's rough way ! 
Sweet blue eyes, undimmed by tears ! 

O dimpled hands, stretched out in play ! 

Love longs to lead those little feet 

Through sunny meadows, bright with flowers ; 
Where all is fair, and glad, and sweet — 

An azure sky that never lowers. 

Love longs to teach those laughing eyes 

To see with clear and earnest sight 
Each turning page of life's great book, 

Where few, alas, can read aright. 

Love longs to give those little hands, 

Stretched out to us in merry play, 
Blossoms to hold that have no thorns, 

And treasures none can take away. 

And yet how powerless, at the best, 

Is human love. Through hopes and fears 

Those little feet must walk alone, 

And those blue eyes shed many tears. 

But, Love Eternal, thou art near ; 

Around our restlessness thy rest ! 
Those thou dost guard, and guide, and teach, 

Are now and ever fully blest. 

Oh ! — may these feet walk in thy ways ; 

May these sweet eyes look up to thee ; 
These little hands receive thy gifts ; 

Thus blessed to all eternity. 

— A. M. Charles worth. 



241 



STRENGTH W WEAKNESS. 

"He giveth power to the faint ; and to them that 
have no might he increaseth strength." 

tT is no dream Great Comforter, 
But very truth to me, 
sgr That all earth's strengthless, fainting ones 
May be made strong in Thee. 

The years have taught me many things, 

But none so sure as this ; 
That shelter, solace, joy, and strength, 

Are always where God is. 

So now, when hope and courage fail, 

And only fear is strong, 
My heart will sing, as in the past, 

An unforgotten song. 

"God is my refuge and my strength, 

I will not be afraid ; " 
And though the night be wild and dark, 

I'll meet it undismayed. 

— Mariana Farningham. 



SATH is very uncertain as to the time of its com- 
ing, therefore the injunction is to watch. ' 'There- 
™ fore be ye also ready ; for in such an hour as ye 
think not, the Son of man cometh." "But as the days 
of Noah were, so shall also the coming of the Son of 
man be." "Watch, therefore." 

242 



jjUST WHERE Y@^l RRE. 

fHRIST simply places Himself by our side and 
shows us a perfect life, God's life on earth in 
man : and he says, " You are to be saints and he- 
roes, every one of you, in the only true sense just 
where you are. That is the reason why I have come 
to you where you are." He uses no compulsion, no 
violence. He does not put His power in the place of 
your liberty. Whoever lives the heroic or saintly life 
will do it of his own free will. There is no manhood, 
womanhood, character, otherwise. 



W i WERE fl G1Rli, 

f WOULD take care of my health, by living out- 
doors as much as possible, and taking long walks 
^ in the sunshine. English girls understand how 
necessary this is for good complexions and cheerful 
spirits. Wear simple clothing, that you may climb 
mountains and breathe freely. 

I would secure the best education. Go to college, 
by all means, if it is possible. A woman, in these days, 
if she would be attractive as well as useful, must be in- 
telligent. Educated men need educated wives. Chil- 
dren need educated mothers. Women themselves 
need a broad education, lest their thoughts become 

243 



IF I WERE A GIRL. 

centered in clothes or in the small round of society 
gossip which belittles. Read books and thereby be- 
come intelligent. 

I would cultivate cheerfulness. Discontent soon 
shows itself in the face. If you have some disappoint- 
ments, so do others. If you are cramped for money, 
be thankful that your lot is no worse than it is. Learn 
to make the best of things. An unhappy woman is a 
perpetual cloud in a home. A fretful girl has few 
friends, and the number lessens year by year. 

I would say kind things of others, especially of girls. 
A girl who makes unkind remarks about other girls had 
better be avoided by young men. She will not make 
an agreeable companion for life. 

I would learn how to be self-supporting. Especially 
in this country, where fortunes change, it is wise for a 
woman to be able to care for herself. Helpless women 
are not a comfort to others, and usually not to them- 
selves. 

I would try to be polite every where. True courtesy 
is more winsome than a pretty face or fine dress. Loud 
talk or loud dress does not betoken the lady. Be ap- 
preciative and sympathetic, and you have two keys 
which will unlock almost all hearts. 

I would learn self-control. To know when to speak 
and when to be silent, and have hateful things said 
about you and be able to answer pleasantly, to have 
people confide in you and be wise enough to keep it 
locked in your own heart, to be in poverty and not to 
be soured it, to meet temptation and be strong be- 

244 



JF I WERE A GIRL. 



fore it, to be strong- enough to perform any labor or 
duty that needs to be done — all this shows a noble 
mastery over self. 

I would be punctual. Being late at meals, late at 
church, or late in meeting engagements, makes unnec- 
essary friction in families. If we are willing to lose 
valuable time, we have no right to make others lose it. 

I would not be careless about the affections. Girls 
too often think that young men are not easily hurt in 
love matters, or if they are, they soon recover. As a 
rule, probably, men love as deeply as women, and to 
play with hearts is a sin. 

I have known girls engaged to two young men at 
the same time, thoughtless to the effect upon those 
whom they could not marry. It is a pitiful thing to 
spoil a life, and it is not unfrequently done. The gold- 
en rule of doing unto others as we would that others 
should do unto us is especially applicable here. 

— Sarah K. Bolton, 



People will go anywhere barefoot to preach their 
faith, but must be well bribed to practice it. 



I have lived to thank God that all my prayers have 
not been answered. 



245 



,N independent young man; 
¥ A right kind of stuff young man ; 
^jk> A deep, comprehensible, 
Plain spoken, sensible, 
Thoroughly self-made young man. 



A not-to-be-beaten young man ; 
An up to the front young man ; 

A genuine, plucky, 

Happy-go-lucky, 
Try it again young man. 

A knowledge seeking young man ; 
A real wide-awake young man ; 

A working in season, 

Find out the reason, 
Not too smart to learn young man. 

A look-out-for-others young man ; 
A practice-not-preach young man ; 

Kind, sympathetic, 

Not all theoretic, 
One-in-a-thousand young man. 

Now-a-days scarce young man ; 

A-hard-to-be-found young man ; 
A perfectly self possessed, 
Not always over-dressed, 

Kind that I like young man. 



246 



BY F178 HMD STARTS. 

f|NE of the hardest lessons to learn is that which 
teaches us to continue to labor zealously even in 
the face of difficulties, and wait patiently for the 
reward that is tardy in coming. But it is a lesson 
that the young man or woman cannot learn too early 
in life. The good, old-fashioned sermon on persever- 
ance, though somewhat disregarded amid the hurry 
and bustle of the present, nevertheless holds a truth 
that will not be put down. Application is the price of 
success to-day, as it ever has been. 

Too often we hear young men declare that their 
business or profession is a failure, because it has not 
brought immediate wealth or honor, and find them 
leaving one occupation for another that appears more 
promising. In many cases the new calling is no more 
satisfactory than the one previously followed, and it in 
turn gives place to another. And so change follows 
change, the cause of failure always being ascribed to 
the occupation that has not been thoroughly tried by 
a continuous effort. 

Good results come only to those who deserve them. 

One day in winter a boy was engaged in shoveling 
snow from the pavement. The drift was a deep one, 
and he was quite a small boy with a very small shovel, 
and the task appeared like a large undertaking. But 
minute after minute the lad labored, for two whole 
hours, and the drift was removed from the walk. 

247 



SOLID TRUTH. 



When asked how he had accomplished so much with 
such a small tool, he replied : 

' 'I had nothing but a little stove -shovel to work with, 
I know, but by keeping at it I got the job done." 

And that is the secret behind many of the great 
achievements of life. By just "keeping at it" the 
greatest duties are performed, and success wrought 
from the most unpromising circumstances. The men 
who have done much have not been those who went 
from one calling to another, or who labored by fits and 
starts. They have been those who, having chosen an 
occupation, b egan their work earnestly and kept at it. 

Spasmodic efforts amount to little or nothing. It is 
steady, continuous driving that counts. It is well to 
begin work; it is better to finish it. The lesson for all 
to learn is to do one thing at a time, and to follow 
that until it is done. 



WO members of the church in Scotland were good 
friends till they took different sides at the time 
of the disruption. They were both thatchers by 
trade. When the dispute about the principles of kirks 
grew hot they ceased to speak to each other. But 
one day they were both employed at the same job. 
Each took one side of the roof and when they had 
worked up to the top they were face to face. They 
couldn't flee, so at last Andrew took off his cap, and 
scratching his head, said: 

248 



CREEPING UP THE STAIRS. 



1 'Johnny, you and me, I think ha'e been very fool- 
ish to dispute as we have done concerning Christ's 
will about the kirks, until we ha'e clean forgotten his 
will about oor ain selves; and so we have fought and 
fought for what we call the truth, and it has ended in 
spite. What ever's wrang, it's perfectly certain that it 
never can be right to be uncivil, unneighborly, unkind, 
— in fact, to hate one another. Na,na! That's the 
devil's work, and na God's. Noo, it strikes me that 
maybe it's wi' the kirk as with this house — ye'e work- 
ing on a'e side and me o'tither, but if we only do our 
work weel, we will meet at the top at last. Gie's your 
han' neighbor." And so they shook hands and were 
the best of friends ever after. 



GREEP1M6 UP THE 87JHR8. 

3JN the softly-falling twilight 
ml Of a weary, weary day, 
^ With a quiet step I entered 

Where the children were at play. 
I was brooding o'er some trouble 

That had met me unawares, 
When a little voice came ringing, 

" Me is creepin' up a stairs." 

Oh! it touched the tenderest heart string 
With a breath and force divine, 

And such melodies awakened 
As my words can ne'er define. 

249 



CREEPING UP THE STAIRS. 

And I turned to see our darling. 

All forgetful of my cares, 
When I saw the little creature 
Slowly creeping up the stairs. 

Step by step she bravely clambered 

On her little hands and knees, 
Keeping up a constant chatter 

Like a magpie in the trees ; 
Till at last she reached the topmost, 

When o'er all the world's affairs 
She, delighted, stood a victor, 

After creeping up the stairs. 

Fainting heart, behold an image 

Of man's brief and struggling life, 
Whose best prizes must be captured 

With an earnest, noble strife ; 
Onward, upward, reaching ever, 

Bending to the weight of cares, 
Hoping, fearing, still expecting, 

We go creeping up the stairs. 

On their steps may be no carpet, 

By their sides may be no rail, 
Hands and knees may often pain us, 

And the heart may almost fail ; 
Still above there is a glory 

Which no weariness impairs, 
With its rest and joy forever, 

After creeping up the stairs. 



250 



MYSTERY. 

EE how the flame doth cling to the lamp I bear in my 

hand ! 
You think it a simple thing, easy to understand ? 

Of what, then, is it made, and how was its substance wrought 
Wh en it sprang to life, and first obeyed the might of Eternal 
Thought ? 

The match, this tiny wand, though no magician, I 
But draw o'er the surface of sand, and lo ! the flame leaped 
high ! 

I gave to the wick the light, and here is the tongue of fire, 
Wonderful, steadfast, bright, never to flag or tire. 

While wick and oil are renewed ; changeless its place it keeps, 
Sheltered from wild winds rude, it falters not nor sleeps. 

And from its flame so small you might kindle the lights of the 

earth, 
All the lights of home, from hovel to hall, all the fires on every 

hearth : 

And the flame would never be less, would lose no atom of 

power, 
Thou gh it gave to all, it would still possess the vigor of its firs 

hour. 

251 



MYSTERY, 

Tis a mystery full of awe ; at the heart of creation it lies, 
An engine vast of eternal law, a riddle of the wise. 

Strike iron cold upon flint, or if stone upon stone you strike, 
Out leaps the spark with the burning hint of the power in both 
alike. 

Branches of wood that lie dead in the forest dark, 
Rub them together rapidly, and lo ! the living spark ! 

Through the whole world everywhere latent the wonder lurks, 
In the depths of earth, in thehights of air, forever the 
marvelous works. 

So the Spirit of God doth burn through the universe He hath 

made, 
From the delicate frond of the fern to the Pleiades' tangled 

braid. 

Seeing we do not see ; we hear, but who understands ? 
We can but bow the knee and worship the work of His hands. 

— Celia Thaxie r 



HERE is no wealth but life— life, including all its 
power of love, of joy and admiration. That 
country is the richest which nourishes the grea test 
number of noble and happy human beings; that man 
is richest who, having perfected the functions of his 
own life to the utmost, has also the widest helpful in- 
fluence, both personal and by means of his possessions, 
over the lives of others. 

— Frances Willard. 



252 



poverty m® %mi7W> 

HISTORY has taught us that no circumstances are 
too humble for a child born into them to rise to 
eminence. It has also taught us that poverty is 
frequently a help rather than a hindrance, and the right 
kind of a man will make circumstances bend to his pur 
pose, and not let circumstances bend him. There is a 
breed of heroes, which is never extinct in any age of 
the world, who delight in obstacles, and who make 
poverty, disadvantages and youthful deprivations only 
serve as the rounds of the ladder by which they climb 
to greatness. They do not sit down and whine because 
others are more fortunate than they. They take fort- 
une as it comes, unmurmuringly, and by a kind of 
mysterious alchemy, as it were, transmute misfortunes 
into benefits. 



STRUGGLE. 

||j|REAT strength is bought with pain 
From out the strife — 
From out the storms that sweep the human soul- 
Comes forth the lofty calm of self-control. 

Peace after war. Although the heart may be 

Trampled and plowed like a torn battle-field, 

Rich are the fruits that follow victory, 

And battle-grounds the fullest harvests yield. 

253 



STRUGGLE. 

Strong grows his arm who breasts a downward stream, 
And stems with steady stroke the mighty tide 

Of his own passions. Sore the wrench may seem, 
Yet only he is strong whose strength is tried. 

To toil is hard. To lay aside the oar — 

To softly rise and fall with passion's swell — 

Is easier far, but when the dream is o'er, 
The bitterness of waking none can tell. 

To float at ease, by sleepy zepyhrs fanned, 
Is but to grow more feeble, day by day, 

While slips life's little hour out, sand by sand, 
And strength and hope together waste away. 

He only wins who sets his thews of steel 

With tighter tension for the prick of pain ; 

Who wearies, yet stands fast ; whose patient zeal 
Welcomes the present loss for future gain. 

Toil before ease : the cross before the ^crown. 

Who covets rest, he first must earn the boon. 
He who at night in peace would lay him down, 

Must bear his load amid the heats of noon. 



How can we expect a harvest of thought who have 
not had the seed time of character? 



A nice wife and a back door often make a rich man 
poor. 

254 



THE RIGHTS m ©TH^R PE0PLE. 

OO commonly the fact is ignored that a man's 
f&W opinions and convictions are his personal private 
matter, with which no one else has the right to 
meddle. 

In politics, the spending of money, in social life, in 
dress and education, each one should scrupulously 
avoid acting as a censor of others who may differ with 
himself. 

No one is privileged while a guest to attack the opin- 
ions of a family whose hospitality he enjoys. When, 
for any reason he cannot acquiesce in the family regu- 
lations let him depart, and not try to reform the family 
to his standard of propriety. 

A man may believe in homeopathy to the highest 
dilution, but that belief does not entitle him to the priv- 
ileges of calling his neighbor to account because he 
chooses to seek relief by means of mercury and quinine 
in as heroic doses as he may fancy. 

By calm personal argument, or by force of example, 
one may try to convince another that his way is the 
better, but a true courtesy requires that he shall not, 
unasked, present his opinions, where to do so will 
wound and not alter in the slightest degree the cause 
of his opponent. 

Let no person flatter himself that because a man is 
loud of voice, and blunt of speech, ever ready with 
cruel judgment of others and free with advice in all 
matters, that he will pleasantly accept such treatment 

255 



THE POST OF &ANQEB. 

from others, for he is quite as likely to resent interfer- 
ence with his affairs as a man of gentler speech and 
greater charity. 

It is so easy to form the habit of meddlesomeness, 
and to persuade one's self into the belief that one's 
mission is to be a "private investigator and public ad- 
visor," that one is apt to forget that in the regulation 
of one's own conduct, life presents enough perplexing 
problems without trespassing on the rights of others 
in a mistaken zeal to convert them to a better way. 



THE P©87 ®? BPGEf?, 

FRENCH general was once leading his reg- 

| iment through a narrow and difficult pass. He 
begged his soldiers to endure with patience the 
fatigue and danger of the march. 

"It is easy for you to talk," said one of the soldiers 
near him, "you who are mounted on a fine horse ; but 
we — poor fellows ! " 

On hearing these words the general dismounted, and 
quickly proposed that the dismounted soldier should 
take his place on the horse. The soldier did so imme- 
diately; but he had scarcely mounted the horse, when 
a shot from the enemy on the surrounding heights 
struck and killed him. 

"You see," said the general to his troops, "that the 
most elevated place is not the least dangerous." He 
then remounted his horse and continued the march. 



256 



|j|j|E patient ! Easy words to speak 
fM) While plenty fills the cup of life, 
^jf While health brings roses to the cheek, 
And far removed our cares and strife. 

Falling so glibly from the tongue 
Of those — I often think of this — 

Whom suffering has never wrung, 

Who scarcely know what patience is. 

Be patient ! when the suff'rer lies 
Prostrate beneath some fell disease, 

And longs, through torturing agonies, 
Only for one short hour of ease. 

Be patient when the weary brain 

Is racked with thought and anxious care, 

And troubles in an endless train 
Seem almost more than it can bear. 

To feel the torture of delay, 

The agony of hope deferred ; 
To labor still from day to day, 

The prize unwon, the prayer unheard. 

And still to hope and strive and wait 
The due reward for fortune's kiss ; 

This is to almost conquer fate, 
This is to learn what patience is. 

257 



KEEP IT TO YOURSELF. 

Despair not ! though the clouds are dark, 
And storm and danger veil the skv ; 

Let fate and courage guide thy barque, 
The storm will pass, the port is nigh. 

Be patient, and the tide will turn, 
Shadows will flee before the sun ; 

These are the hopes that live and burn 
To light us till our work is done. 



>OU have trouble, your feelings are injured, your 
husband is unkind, your wife frets, your home is 
^ not pleasant, your friends do not treat you fairly; 
and things generally move unpleasantly. Well, what 
of it? Keep it to yourself. A smothering fire can be 
found and extinguished; but, when coals are scattered, 
you cannot pick them up. Bury your sorrow. The 
place for sad disgusting things is under the ground. 
A cut finger is not benefitted by pulling off the plaster 
and exposing it to somebody's eye. Charity covereth 
a multitude of sins. Things thus covered are cured 
without a scar; but, once published and confided to 
meddling friends, there is no end to the trouble they 
may cause. Keep it to yourself. Troubles are tran- 
cient; and when a sorrow is healed and passed, what 
a comfort it is to say, "No one ever knew it till it was 
over." 



258 



PRBY PR P@WER. 

HE worlding may succeed in life by carefulness, 
by skill, by intelligence and by force, but in the 
work of God no man can succeed without prayer. 
No human power can effect the changes and accom- 
plish the work required in the service of God. There 
is a superhuman work to be done, and a superhuman 
energy is required for its accomplishment. 

To be prayerless is to be powerless. No matter 
what other qualification's men may have for the work, 
unless they have the power of God, they will never 
succeed in accomplishing the service of God. 



Y@UR HE1GtfB0R'8 WES. 

§EARN to seal your lips forever on the wretched, 
miserable habit of telling the world about the 
motes in your neighbor's eye. Who made you a 
judge over him? Go, if you will, and personally tell 
him his faults between you and him alone. Tell him 
with love and sympathy in your heart because you want 
to help him to become nobler and better, because you 
cannot bear to see a stain on him, and not because you 
would humble him or glory over him, and in the end 
he will bless you for it, and you will have done a good 
work. But never tell the world of his faults. 



259 



8 RE60MG(WCN0ll 

M DO not know 

M If I were wrong or you ; 

^ It grieves me so 

To think I gave you pain, 
That I my gift must rue, 

And take it back again. 

I do not know 

If you or I were right ; 
Your tears have caused me woe, 

And if you weep again 
I shall grow more contrite, 

And covet all your pain. 

I do not know 

Nor care which one was right ; 
For when your dear eyes flow 

I cannot speak for pain, 
And tear-mists blind my sight 

Until you smile again. 

So let it go — 

We may both have been wrong, 
Or partly so ; 

But sin is purged by pain, 
And royal souls are strong 

To wound and heal again. 



— Ella D. Clymer. 



260 



P7 i^tJGK but mm 

fWENTY clerks in a store, twenty hands in a print- 
ing office, twenty apprentices in a ship-yard, 
^ twenty young men in town, all want to get on in 
the world, and expect to do so, " says an old merchant. 
"One of the clerks will become partner, and make 
a fortune; one of the compositers will own a news- 
paper, and become an influential citizen; one of the ap- 
prentices will become master builder; one of the vil- 
lagers will get a handsome farm, and live like a pa- 
triarch — but which one is the lucky individual? Lucky? 
There is no luck about it. The thing is almost as cer- 
tain as the rule of three. The young man who will 
distance his competitors is he who masters his business, 
preserves his integrity, who lives cleanly and purely, 
who devotes his leisure to the acquisition of knowledge; 
who gains friends by deserving them, and saves his 
spare money. There are some ways to fortune shorter 
than this dusty old highway, but the staunch men of 
the community, the men who have achieved something 
really worth having — good fortune, good name and 
serene old age- — all go in this road." 



The man who finds out that he has made a fool of 
himself has learned something valuable. 

261 



— ' ■■ 




7R0UBLE8 HND TRISliS NEVER 6E8SE. 

|ANY a young convert is surprised that, having 
I become a Christian, he is still beset by trials and 
^*^ troubles. One said recently: "I thought I 
was over my troubles when I became a Christian, but 
I find they are still on hand, though there is this dif- 
ference — I have Jesus to help me bear them now. " Old 
Christians and young Christians need to have this all 
the time in mind. "Put on the whole armour of God 
that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the 
devil." 

Keep on, weary, struggling, fainting Christian, sur- 
rounded with troubles and trials without measure, for, 
' 'These are they which came out of great tribulation 
and have washed their robes, and made them white 
in the blood of the Lamb. " 



W0fCT Hlill QM m 



jO man has a right to say he can do nothing for the 
benefit of mankind, who are less benefitted by 
ambitious projects than by the sober fulfillment of 
each man's proper duties. By doing the proper duty 
in the proper place, a man may make the world his 
debtor. The results of "patient continuance in well- 
doing" are never to be measured by the weakness of 
the instrument, but by the omnipotence of Him who 
blesseth the sincere efforts of obedient faith alike in 
the prince and in the cottager. 

262 



n brighter mnm^. 

r \RK cloud-folds wave above us, 

The squadrons of the rain 
Bear down upon the forest, 

And sweep along the plain ; 
They break their shining lances 

Against our loved retreat, 
And trample our sweet blossoms 

With swift, unsparing feet ; 
Yet will our hearts be joyous, 

Nor grief nor trouble borrow, 
There cometh peace, the storm will cease— 

There'll be a brighter morrow. 

So, when our lives are darkened, 

And clouds of ill hang o'er, 
We '11 never fear the sunshine 

Will find the earth no more. 
" Let not your hearts be troubled ! " 

Still kindly sayeth He 
Whose mandate hushed the waters 

Of stormy Galilee. 
He brings the balm of Gilead 

To heal the wounds of sorrow ; 
At His behest, there cometh rest — 

There '11 be a brighter morrow. 

Brave brother, art thou weary 

And is the journey long? 
Dear sisters, dost thou falter, 

Hath sorrow stilled thy song? 

263 



A WIFE'S LVCKF ACCIDENT. 

Rejoice ! the sunset reddens, 
The clouds are rolling by, 
The glorious "bow of promise" 

Hangs in the eastern sky ! 
Thy heaven will be sweeter 

For days of earthly sorrow ; 
The storm will cease, there cometh peace — 

There J ll be a brighter morrow. 

— Andrew Downing. 



fOMETIMES what seems to be a very unfortunate 
accident will turn out to be a blessing in disguise. 
It is said that tinted paper was first made by ac- 
cident, in this way: Mrs. East, the wife of an English 
paper maker, working on a wash day near a large vat 
which had in it the pulp from which the paper was to 
be made, accidentally dropped her bluing bag into it. 
She thought the paper would be ruined, and was too 
frightened to tell her husband what she had done. 

When the paper came out, it had a peculiar tinge, 
but the workmen could not explain it, so the paper 
maker sent the whole batch to London, with instructions 
to sell it for whatever they could get for it. But when 
the buyers saw it they thought it pretty, called it 
1 'something new, " and orders poured in upon the aston- 
ished manufacturer for more of the same sort. The 
wife confessed what she had done, and we may be sure 
she was forgiven readily, for by her lucky accident her 
husband's fortune was made; and that is the history of 
the very simple origin of tinted paper. 

264 



BE UP HMB BQ4M& 

^K|RE you not wearying for the heavenly rest?" said 
Ml Whitfield to an old minister one day. 
si- <<No, certainly not!" he replied. 

''Why not?" was the surprised rejoinder of Whit- 
field. 

"Why, my good brother," said the aged saint, "if 
you were to send your servant into the fields to do a 
certain portion of work for you, and promised to give 
him refreshments in the evening, what would you say 
if you found him languid and discontented in the mid- 
dle of the day, and murmuring, 'would to God it were 
evening !' Would you not bid him be up and doing, 
and finish the work, and then go home and enjoy the 
promised rest? Just so does God require of you and 
me, that instead of looking for Saturday night, we do 
our day's work in the day." 



H0W I® WW CHILDREN L0VELY. 

■HERE is just one way; that is to surround them 
by day and night with an atmosphere of love. 
Restraint and reproof may be mingled with love, 
but love must be a constant element. ' 'I found my little 
girl was growing unamiable and plain," said a mother 
to us the other day, ' ' and, reflecting on it sadly, I 
could only accuse myself as the cause thereof. So I 
changed my management, and improved every oppor- 

265 



TELL JB8U8. ' 

tunity to praise and encourage her ; to assure her of 
my unbounded affection for her, and my earnest de 
sire that she should grow up to lovely and harmoni- 
ous womanhood. As a rose opens to the sunshine, so 
the child opened in the warmth of the constant affec- 
tion and caresses I showered upon her ; her peevish 
ness passed away, her face grew beautiful; and now one 
look from me brings her to my side, obedient to my 
will, and happiest when she is near me." Is not this a 
lesson for all parents? Not all the plowing or weeding 
or cultivation of every sort we can give our growing 
crops, will do for them what the steady shining of the 
sun can affect. Love is the sun -shine of the family; 
without it, not character, or morality, or virtue, can be 
brought to perfection. 



HEN thou wakest in the morning, 
Ere thou tread the untried way 
Of the lot that lays before thee, 
Through the coming busy day ; 
Whether sunbeams promise brightness, 

Whether dim forebodings fall, 
Be the dawning glad or gloomy, 
Go to Jesus — tell Him all. 

In the calm of sweet communion 

Let the daily work be done ; 
In the peace of soul out-pouring 

Care be banished, patience won ; 

266 




" IF I WERE A BOY." 

And if earth, with its enchantments, 

Seeks the spirit to enthrall, 
Ere thou listen, ere thou answer, 

Turn to Jesus — tell him all ! 

Then, as hour by hour glides by thee, 

Thou wilt blessed guidance know ; 
Thine own burdens being lightened, 

Thou can'st bear another's woe ; 
Thou can'st help the weak ones onward, 

Thou can'st raise up those that fall ; 
But remember, while thou servest, 

Still tell Jesus— tell him all ! 

And if weariness creep o'er thee, 

As the day wears to its close, 
Or if sudden fierce temptation 

Brings thee face to face with foes, 
In thy weakness, in thy peril, 

Raise to heaven a trustful call ; 
Strength and calm for every crisis 

Come — in telling Jesus all. 

— Georgiana Taylor. 



U W i Were H B0Y" 

I'F I were a boy again I would look on the cheerful 
|] side of everything, for almost everything has a 
^ cheerful side. Life is very much like a mirror; if 
you smile upon it, it smiles back upon you; but if you 
frown and look doubtful upon it, you will be sure to 
get a similar look in return. I once heard it said of a 
grumbling, unthankful person: "He would have made 

267 



" IF I WERE A JSOF.V 

an uncommonly fine sour apple, if he had happened to 
have been born in that station." Inner sunshine not 
only warms the heart of the owner, but all those who 
come in contact with it. Indifference begets indiffer- 
ence. "Who shuts love out, in turn shall be shutout 
from love." 

If I were a boy again, I would school myself to say 
"No," oftener. I might write pages on the impor- 
tance of learning very early in life to gain that point 
where a young man can stand erect and decline doing 
an unworthy thing because it is unworthy. 

If I were a boy again, I would demand of myself 
more courtesy toward my companions and friends. 
Indeed, I would rigorously exact it of myself to 
strangers as well. The smallest courtesies interspersed 
along the rough road of life are like the English spar- 
rows singing to us all the winter long, and making that 
season of ice and snow more endurable to everybody. 

But I have talked long enough, and this shall be my 

parting paragraph. Instead of trying so hard as some 

of us do to be happy, as if that was the soul purpose 

of life, I would, if I were a boy again, try still harder 

to deserve happiness. 

— James T. Field. 




268 






m ©PEN 8TP& 

:OU will not be able to go through life without be- 
ing discovered; a lighted candle cannot be hid. 
^ There is a feeling among some good people that 
it will be wise to be very reticent and hide their light 
under a bushel. They intend to lie low all the war 
time, and come out when the palms are being distrib- 
uted. They hope to travel to Heaven by the back 
lanes, and skulk into glory by disguise. Rest assured, 
my fellow christians, that at some period or other, in 
the most quiet lives, there will come a moment for open 
decision. Days will come when we must speak out, or 
prove traitors to our Lord and his truth. You can- 
not long hold fire in the hollow of your hand, or keep 
a candle under the bed. Godliness, like murder, will 
out. You will not always be able to travel to Heaven 
incog. 

— Spurgeon. 



j|0 not be discouraged at the difficulties that seem 
so great before you. They may seem great a lit- 
tle way off, but they always diminish or vanish 
altogether as we come near them. Some one has said 
duties and difficulties are like the nightmare; as soon 
as you stir, they vanish. Learn to look on the bright 
side and you will be surprised at the number of things 
that will turn up to help. 

369 



WHEN SlliENGE IS GBbBEM. 

HAT there is a time to speak and a time to keep 
SPjP silent, seems to be an idea which some very good 
^ people have failed to grasp. The Mongols illus- 
trate this thought in a story that runs thus : 

Two geese, when about to start southward on their 
autumn migration, were entreated by a frog to take him 
with them. On the geese expressing their willingness 
to do so if a means of conveyance could be devised, the 
frog produced a stock of strong grass, got the two geese 
to take it one by each end, while he clung to it with his 
mouth in the middle. 

In this manner the three were making the journey 
successfully when they were noticed from below by some 
men, who loudly expressed their admiration of the de- 
vice, and wondered who had been clever enough to 
discover it. The frog opened his mouth to say, ' 'It was 
I," lost his hold, fell to the earth, and was dashed to 
pieces. 

Moral: — Do not let pride induce you to speak when 
safety requires you to be silent. 

7RU8? P0 REST. 

RUST God implicitly, submit to Him cheerfully, 
and you will find that all shall be well; that more 
grace will be given you; that the heavier the triaL 

the larger will be the blessed measure of the strength. 

The shepherd is leading you in the right way to his 

own blessed fold. Leave it all to Him. 

270 



jY mother gets m e up, builds the fire, and gets 
Jfffflf my breakfast, an d sends me off, " said a bright 
^*^ youth. ' 'Then she gets my father up and gets 
his breakfast and sends him off. Then she gives the 
other children their breakfast, and sends them to school ; 
and then she and the baby have their breakfast." 

" How old is the baby?" asked the reporter. 

" Oh, she is 'most two, but she can talk and walk as 
well as any of us." 

"Are you well paid?" 

' ' I get two dollars a week, and father gets two dol- 
lars a day." 

"How much does your mother get?" 

With a bewildered look the boy said, "Mother, why 
she don't work for anybody." 

" I thought you said she worked for all of you.' 

"Oh, yes, for us, she does; but there ain't no money 
in it." 



WHEN BtfHLL WE WW. 




HEN shall we win ? Why, when we fire 
Straight to the mark and never tire ; 
When we hold fast, as we Ve begun 
And still work on till all is done. 



271 



jMONG the fascinations of a beautiful woman, none 
exceed tha t of a cultivated voice. Every woman 
cannot learn to sing, but she can learn to practice 
alluring intonations of the voice. Good speech is tune- 
ful though it be not song. Modulation in talking is a 
sort of harmony. Lack of a pretty face may be entire- 
ly counteracted by a well-trained voice united with an 
ease of manner. 



HARITY opens her door to need, 
Without regard to faith or creed ; 
Spreads her mantle of love and grace 
Without regard to time or place. 

She does not ask applause of men, 
The blatant voice of tongue or pen, 
But sheds her blessings soft and still, 
As sweet and pure as mountain rill. 

Where'er distress and sorrows are, 
She bends her love and gives her care; 
Lifts up the sad and sorrowing heart, 
With mercy's charm and pity's part. 

She spreads her mantle f ree and fair, 
As Nature's gifts — the light and air, 
With hand and purse, alike she's free, 
And boundless as the heaving sea. 

272 



CRJJtllT. 

When called to meet some special case, 
She does not ask whereof the place ; 
She bends her strength to give relief, 
Assuage their sorrow, care and grief. 

Spreads her mantle, o'er every ill, 
Her mercies as the dews distill ; 
Seeks not for pomp or proud array, 
But simply asks the means, the way. 

The orphan's prayer, the widow's cry, 
Whenever souls in anguish sigh, 
She turns her feet to help and bless, 
And joyous gives her kind caress. 

All hail sweet charity ! all hail ! all hail ! 
When here on earth all else shall fail, 
Thy breast all free, and pure and bright, 
Shall glow with Heaven's brightest light. 

— A. F. Scott. 



IlITHOUT earnestness no man is ever great, or 
really does great things. He may be the clev- 
erest man; he may be brilliant, entertaining, 
popular, but he will want weight. No soul moving 
picture was ever painted that had not in its depths a 
shadow. 



If you can see nothing but the bad, shut your eyes. 
Better be blind than unable to see the beautiful and 
the good. 

2?3 




RETTY, refers to external beauty on a small scale. 
jiff Grace of manner, is a natural gift; elegance, im 
^ plies cultivation. Well-bred, refers to general 
conduct rather than individual actions. Beautiful, is 
the strongest word of its class, implying softness and 
delicacy in addition to everything that is in similar 
words. Courtesy has reference to others, politeness, 
to ourselves. The former is a duty or privilege to 
others, the latter is behavior assumed from proper self- 
respect. Benevolent, refers to the character of the 
agent acting, beneficent, to the act performed. Charit- 
able, is restricted to almsgiving except when used in 
reference to judgment of others. Lovely is used where 
there is something more than external beauty — when 
there is a combination of personal beauty and pleasing 
manner. Faultless features do not make a lady lovely 
who is disagreeable in disposition. 



EVERY ©NE GflM HEliP. 

GENTLEMAN related once that a traveler stood 
outside a splendid cathedral in Germany, express- j 
ing his admiration of its beauty. "Yes, " said a 
laborer who happened to hear him, ' ' it's a fine building 
and took us many years to finish it." "Took you," 
exclaimed the gentleman, ' ' why what had you to do 

274 



GROWING OLD, 



with it ?" * 'I mixed the mortar that's in it sir, " was the 
modest reply. That laborer had a right to feel he had 
some share in the grand work now complete; his part 
though humble, had been well done, and he was not 
ashamed of it. In the struggle of right against wrong, 
every one can help;your place dear reader may be low- 
ly, but if you are diligent and trustworthy, if you ful- 
fill your daily work as in the Master's sight, you are a 
fellow laborer with Him, you will yet hear Him say to 
you, " Well done, good and faithful servant." 



GROWING 0L0. 

'HEY call it "going down the hill !" when we are grow- 
fiWf mgold, 

^p And speak with mournful accents when our tale is 
nearly told ; 
They sigh when talking of the past, the days that used to be, 
As if the future were not bright with immortality. 

But 'tis not going down — 'tis climbing higher and higher, 
Until we almost see the mountains that our souls desire ; 
For if the natural eye grows dim, it is but dim to the earth, 
While the eye of faith grows keener to discern the Savior's 
worth. 

Who would exchange for shooting blade, the waving golden 

grain, 
Or when the corn is fully ripe, would wish it green again ? 
And who would wish the hoary head, found in the way of 

truth, 
To be again encircled with the sunny locks of youth ? 

275 



GROWING OLD. 

For though in truth the outward man must perish and decay, 
The inward man shall be renewed by grace from day to day ; 
Those who are planted by the Lord, unshaken in the root, 
Shall in their old age flourish, and bring forth choicest fruit. 

It is not years that make old men ; the spirit may be young, 
Though fully three score years and ten the wheels of life have 

run ; 
God has Himself recorded, in His blessed word of truth 
That they who wait upon the Lord, they shall e'en renew 
their youth. 

And when the eyes now dim shall open to behold the king, 
And ears now dull with age shall hear the harps of Heaven 

ring— 
And on the head now hoary shall be placed the crown of 

gold, 
Then shall be known the lasting joy of never growing: old. 



H|UR human duties are faithfully and joyfully per- 
formed only when we feel that they are not of 
our own choosing, but tasks divinely ordered and 
attuned to that high purpose which " through the 
ages runs." 

— H. G. Spaulding. 




276 



8Y87E/RJW 8JW1M8. 

f||||MALL savings are the foundation of great wealth. 

HID ^■' ost °^ tne success f u l men of America practiced 
^ economy to secure a foothold in the commercial 
or financial world. Many of the professional celebri- 
ties of our day and age began life at the foot of the 
ladder and rose step by step, each advance made pos- 
sible by self-denial and frugality. The late Daniel 
Dougherty, whose fame as an orator, author and law- 
yer was world-wide, saved enough out of his pitifully 
small wages as a messenger boy to pay for the laying 
of the foundation of his education. 

No thoughtless spendthrift can ever hope to win 
fame or fortune. Many a genius has ended his career 
in the gutter because he failed to understand the first 
principle of business life. The man who is generous 
before being just is a useless, and often dangerous, 
member of society. 

Systematic saving is the keynote to success. Dick- 
ens has illustrated the truth of this statement by draw- 
ing the character of Micawber. Every city and hamlet 
in the United States has its Micawbers — good fellows, 
jovial and generous, but forever living on the work 
and charity of their friends. Chronic impecuniosity 
always ends in a total loss of self-respect, and man who 
cannot respect himself is on the road to the poor house 
or the penitentiary. 

Every able-bodied man in the United States can 
save something out of his weekly wages or his month- 

277 



SYSTEMATIC SAVING. 

\y salary. The self-denial which may be required to 
become a capitalist on a small scale may lead to bet- 
ter things. It trains the mind and develops confi- 
dence in self. Five dollars per month placed in a 
building association is equivalent to one thousand dol- 
lars in nine years. Five dollars deposited each month 
in a reliable savings bank amounts to sixty dollars at 
the close of each year and four per cent, interest. 

Labor organizations would do well to instruct their 
members in the rudiments of practical financiering. 

Every dollar saved, if properly invested in a home, 
building association or bank, earns another dollar in 
the course of a few months and eventually makes the 
investor a free man who can look forward to sickness 
and old age with perfect equinimity. 

Every dollar wasted is a wasted opportunity. The 
spendthrift has no friends when his substance is squan- 
dered. The last days of his life are invariably days of 
misery and vain regrets. 

Look upon both sides of the picture before it is too 
late. Habits of economy and vicious traits are alike 
formed early in life. Every man must at an early 
period decide for himself whether it is better to be a 
useful citizen or a drone, a man or a parasite. 




278 



m®w$ hearts. 

^HERE are broken hearts in the world to-day 
Though smiling faces hide them ; 
f|W They pass and repass on the old highway, 
With stifled grief beside them. 
The wan, white face of a woman who knows 

That she must wander apart 
From the soul where not even pity glows, 
With a proud and broken heart. 

There are broken hearts in the world to-day, 

Beneath warm fur and laces ; 
Bleak December knaws at those hearts, though May 

Smiles in the dauntless faces. 
The resolute eyes of the man we see 

By day in the busy mart ; 
Look down in the night through his soul, and he 

Looks into a broken heart. 

There are broken hearts in the world to-day, 

For all the cynic's laughter ; 
The warm hearts that were red and growing gray, 

Hope fled and Youth went after. 
But the sun comes up and the world goes round 

And all of us play our parts, 
But over as well as under the ground 

There are dead and broken hearts. 

-John Ernest McCann. 



279 



WHY WILL ymi 

fSfSHY will you keep caring for what the world 
ImI sa ^ s * ^ r ^ °^' tr ^' to ^ e no ^ on ^ er a s ^ ave to 
_«slFn j t j You can have little idea of the comfort of 

the freedom from it — it is bliss! All this caring for 
what people will say is from pride, hoist your flag and 
abide by it. I n an infinitely short space of time all secrets 
will be divulged. Therefore if you are misjudged, why 
trouble to put yourself right? You have no idea what 
a great deal of trouble it will save you. Roll your bur- 
den to Him and he will make straight your mistakes. 
He will set you right with those with whom you have 
set yourself wrong. ' 'Here I am a lump of clay; Thou 
art the potter. Mold me as Thou in thy wisdom wilt. 
Never mind my cries. Cut my life off — so be it; pro- 
long it — so be it. Just as Thou wilt, but I rely on thy 
unchanging guidance during the trial." 
Oh, the comfort that comes from this! 

— Gen. Gordon. 



jjA ET me truly feel that in myself I am nothing, and 
W/( at once through every inlet of my soul God comes 
* in and is everything to me. And as soon as I 
feel this, the Almightiness of God pours through my 
spirit like a stream, and I can do all things through 
Him that strengtheneth me. 

— William Mountford. 



280 



J|p[MPLOYEES are often very particular not to over- 
|fij, step their own duties, or to do work neglected by 
^ others. It would be well, however, for every 
young man just starting in life to remember that the 
man who succeeds, is the one who is ready to turn his 
hand to anything that will advance the interest of his 
employer, as he would be were he in business for him- 
self. 

Mr. Wilder, the first president of the American Tract 
Society, and widely known for his large benevolence in 
this country and in Europe, was once head clerk for a 
large firm in Charlestown, Mass. He sold a customer 
a ball of Russian duck, to be delivered at one o'clock. 
The firm was out of duck and he went over to Boston 
to buy it. No cart-man was at hand, and he engaged 
a porter to take it over in a wheel barrow. 

Returning soon after, he found the porter on the 
bridge, sitting on the wheel barrow, half dead with 
heat. It was half-past twelve and the duck was prom- 
ised at one. Without hesitation, Mr. Wilder, in spite 
of heat and dust, started with the wheel-barrow. 

A wealthy merchant on horseback met him and said, 
with a smile, "Turned truckman, Wilder?'' 

"These goods are due at one o'clock," said Mr. 
Wilder, "and my porter has given out, so I must de- 
liver them myself to keep my word. " 

"Good, good!" said the gentleman, and went di- 

281 



THE GIRL WHO WORKS. 

rectly to Mr. Wilder's employer to tell what he had 
seen, and to add, "Tell Wilder when he wishes to go 
into business for himself, my name is at his service for 
thirty thousand dollars." 

No work is too menial if it is necessary to keep an 
engagement. 



THE GIRli WH© W0RK8. 

'HERE is a girl, and I love to think of her and talk 
WW of her, who comes in late when there is company, 
^ who wears a pretty little air of mingled responsi- 
bility and anxiety with her- youth, whom the others 
seem to depend upon and look to for many comforts. 
She is the girl who helps mother. 

In her own home she is a blessed little saint and 
comforter. She takes unfinished tasks from the tired, 
stiff fingers that falter at their work; her strong young 
figure is a staff upon which the gray-haired, white-faced 
mother leans and is rested. She helps mother with 
the spring's sewing, and the week's mending, with a 
cheerful conversation and congenial companionship 
that some girls do not think worth while on only moth- 
er. And when there comes a day when she must bend 
over the old worn-out body of mother lying unheedful 
in her coffin, rough hands folded, her long disquiet 
merged in rest, something very sweet will be mingled 
with her loss, and the girl who helped mother will find 
a benediction of peace upon her head. 

282 



THE GRU^BliER. 

HIS YOUTH. 

JH^IS cap was too thick and his coat was too thin ; 

He couldn't be quiet, he hated a din ; 

He hated to write, and he hated to read ; 
He was certainly very much injured indeed ; 
He must study and toil ; overwork he detested ; 
His parents were strict and he never was rested ; 
He knew he was wretched as wretched could be, 
There was no one so wretchedly wretched as he. 

HIS MANHOOD. 

His farm was too small and his taxes too big ; 
He was selfish and lazy and as cross as a pig ; 
His wife was too silly, his children too rude, 
And just because he was uncommonly good ! 
He hadn't got money enough to spare ; 
He had nothing at all fit to eat or to wear ; 
He knew he was wretched as wretched could be, 
There was no one so wretchedly wretched as he. 

HIS OLD AGE. 

He finds he has sorrows more deep than his fears j 
He grumbles to think he has grumbled for years ; 
He grumbles to think he has grumbled away 
His home and his children, his life's little day. 
But alas ! 'tis too late ! It is no use to say 
That his eyes are too dim and his hair too gray ; 
He knows he is wretched as wretched can be ; 
There is no one so wretchedly wretched as he. 



283 



;NE day an old man met a business friend on the 
the street and suddenly said to him, "John you 
have a house to let?" 
' 'A house to let ?" repeated the younger man. * 'Who 
told you so? I have no house to let." 

"I think you have, John. You are not preparing 
to live in it yourself, I see. I mean your house not 
made with hands, eternal in the heavens. You have 
not made arrangements to move in, have you? It's to 
let, then." 

The young man walked away as though a hornet 
had stung him, and he did not let the sun go down on 
his head without taking steps to inhabit that house him- 
self. 



9JRE TO GHR1ST. 

;EAR Friend, why don't you come to Christ 

When all are pleading so ; 

Your Pastor, friends and neighbors, 
Your wife and children too. 
Dear Jesus stands with out-stretched arms, 
And angels breathless wait 
To bear your penitential prayer 
Up to the golden gate. 

Long in dreadful condemnation 
You have suffered on, 
Your sense of guilt and load of sin 
Have well-nigh crushed you down ; 

284 



COME TO CHRIST. 

But Satan laughs at your distress, 
He scoffs at your despair ! 
And tries to keep you on his side 
With, " Bravo ! Do and dare !" 

Think of the fearful day when you 

Before the Judge shall stand, 

In speechless horror and dismay, 

No one can help a hand 

When God shall say, "Your day is past, 

Away, it is no use, 

You did not take the Son I gave, 

You are without excuse. " 

I ask again, will you not come 
While mercy pleads for you, 
And let the Savior in his love 
Give you a heart all new ? 
Oh do not let that wicked one 
Rob you of heaven's joys, 
And drag you down to endless woe 
Into the fiendish noise. 

Break the bands that sin has fastened, 
Break them now and rise ; 
Behold the bleeding Lamb of God, 
Accept the sacrifice. 



"Do to-day's duty, fight to-day's temptation; do not 
weaken and distract yourself by looking forward to 
things you cannot see, and could not understand if you 
saw them." 



285 



W 1 HAB KN0WM. 

|J S F I had known when last I touched the fingers 

11 Of him I loved so well, 

^ That ne'er again their clinging clasp would thrill me 

With love's strange spell, 
I had not been so careless in my greeting 
So free to say farewell — 

If I had known ! 

If I had known that low voice, sad and tender, 

That pleaded for one word, 
One little word to carry as love's token, 

Would ne'er be heard 
Till life were past, my heart, then cold and careless, 

How might it have been stired — 
If I had known ! 

If I had known ! Ah, hopeless, sad reflection ; 

Thus late, it brings no cheer. 
If I had known how soon cold death would silence 

The voice so dear : 
Had shown some of the little love I cherished, 
Life were not now so drear — 
If I had known ! 

— M. C. Brows. 




286 



OBEYING piiEflSHNTkY, 



J|ITTLE Harry had seen some older boys fly their 
kites from the tops of houses, and he thought it 



"^ would be nice fun if he could do so too — so he 
came to his aunt and said: 

"Aunt Mary, can I go up to the top of the house 
and fly my kite? " 

His aunt wished to do everything that was proper 
to please him, but she thought this was very unsafe, 
so she said: 

"No, Harry, my boy; I think that is very danger- 
ous sort of play. I'd rather you wouldn 't go." 

"AH right Then I'll gfo out on the bridge, " said 
Harry. 

His aunt smiled, and said she hoped he would al- 
ways be as obedient as that. 

"Harry, what are you doing? " said his mother on 
one occasion. 

" Spinning my new top, mother." 

"Can't you take the baby out to ride? Get the 
carriage, and I '11 bring him down.'' 

"All right!" shouted the boy, as he put his top 
away in his pocket, and hastened to obey his mother. 

"Uncle William, may I go over to the store this 
morning? " said Harry one day at breakfast. "I want 
to see those baskets again that I was looking at yes- 
terday." 

"O yes, Harry," said his uncle; "I shall be very 
glad to have you." 

287 



THE BONDAGE OF LOVE, 

-'But I cannot spare you to-day, Harry," said his 
mother; I want you to go with me; you shall go to the 
store another time." 

"All right," said Harry, and went on eating. 

No matter what Harry was asked to do, or what 
refusal he met with when asking for anything, his con- 
stant answer was, "All right." He never asked, 
"Why can't, I?" or " Why musn 't I? " Harry not 
only learned to obey, but he learned to obey in good 
humor. 



SWEET will of God, thou hast girded me round, 
Like the deep moving currents that girdle the sea ; 
With omnipotent love is my poor nature bound, 
And this bondage of love sets me perfectly free. 

For years my will wrestled with vague discontent, 
That like a sad angel o'ershadowed my way ; 

God's light in my soul oft with darkness was blent; 
And my heart ever longed for an unclouded day. 

My wild will was captured, yet under the yoke 

There was pain, and not peace, at the press of the 
load, 

Till the glorious burden the last fiber broke, 
And I melted like wax in the furnace of God. 

And now I have flung myself recklessly out, 
Like a chip on the stream of the Infinite will ; 

I pass the rough rocks with a smile and a shout, 
And I just let my God His dear purpose fulfill. 

288 



THE BONDAGE OF LOVE. 

I care not for self ; all my blisses and pains 

I gladly yield up to the mandate above ; 
My crosses and triumphs, my losses and gains, 

I bury them all in the vortex of love. 

And now my King Jesus has all his own way, 
I wait but to catch his low whispering word ; 

'Tis my bliss to lie low 'neath his scepter's bright sway, 
For my triumph I see in each step of my Lord. 

Forever I choose the good will of my God, 

Its holy, deep riches to love and to know ; 
The serfdom of love doth so sweeten my rod, 

That its touch maketh rivers of honey to flow. 

Roll on, checkered seasons, bring smiles or bring tears, 

My soul sweetly sails on an infinite tide ; 
I shall soon touch the shore of eternity's years, 

And near the white throne of my Savior abide. 

— George D. Watson 



fHE little I have seen in the world teaches me to 
look upon the errors of others in sorrow, not in 
T anger. When I take the history of one poor 
heart that has sinned and suffered, and represent to 
myself the struggles and temptations it has passed 
through, the brief pulsation of joy, the feverish inqui- 
etude of friends, I would fain leave the erring soul of 
my fellow man with Him from whose hand it came. 

— Longfellow, 



289 



fi GUSjmzn 8EGURE0. 

YO UNG man in a dry goods store in Boston was 
endeavoring to sell a customer some goods. He 
had a quantity on hand which he much desired to 
dispose of, as they were not of the freshest style, and 
the man seemed inclined to take them. 

When the goods had been examined, and the bar- 
gain was about to be concluded, the customer inquired: 

" Are these goods the latest style ?" 

The young man hesitated. He wanted to sell the 
goods, and it appeared evident that if he said they 
were the latest style the man would take them. But 
he could not tell a lie, and he replied: 

"They are not the latest style but they are a very 
good style." 

The man looked at him, examined some other goods 
of later styles and said: 

"I will take those of the older style and some of 
the new also. Your honesty in stating the facts will 
fasten me to this place. 

The man not only sold his goods and kept a good 
conscience, but he also retained a good customer 
whom he might never have seen again if he had not 
spoken to him the exact truth. There is no perma- 
nent gain in falsehood and deception. 

Righteousness and truth are a sure foundation. 



290 



GIVE fl tIAMD 7® YSUR BR07MER. 

IVE a hand to your brother 

Wrestling with wind and wave, 
Eagerly help another — 

You are saved that you may save I 

Heavily seas are breaking 

O'er his drooping form, 
Hope, is his heart forsaking, 

Help ! warriors of the storm ! 

Out of the depths of sorrow 

Calls he with bitter cry, 
Wait for no other morrow, 

But grasp him ere he die ! 

Cometh no shining angel 

In swift, unwearied flight, 
With the voice of the glad evangel 

Down from the courts of light ? 

Hearts and hands that are human 

In pitying haste must move ; 
Throw out the rope of promise, 

Draw him with cords of love ! 

Give a hand to your brother 

Wrestling with wind and wave, 
Eagerly help another 

You are saved that you may save ! 

— C. T. Carisbrooke. 



291 



iN English embassador to one of the great eastern 
empires had the misfortune to lose his wife while 
she was performing the gracious duties of her 
high office. The bereaved nobleman — one of the most 
distinguished of living diplomatists — was so stricken 
by his loss that he felt the need of having his two 
daughters by his side; but they were young girls in 
school in far-off England. Unable to endure the 
gloom cast over the magnificent embassy by the death 
of its mistress, the embassador sailed for home to 
bring his daughters eastward. 

On the eve of their departure from England for the 
country in which her father held official position, the 
elder of the girls was surprised by an invitation to 
lunch with Queen Victoria. 

Lady Mary — as we will call her — was a true-hearted 
English girl, and had many of the high ideals of her 
dead mother. 

After the lunch the queen led her into a private 
room, and taking her hands said: 

" Lady Mary, you are leaving England to take at 
your father's side your mother's place in the high po- 
sition which he holds." 

The girl flushed with surprise, for this was the first 
intimation she had received of the real nature of her 
future. That she must fulfill the difficult and delicate 
public duties falling to the wife of an embassador had 

292 



ADVICE OVA QUEEN. 

not been explained to her. She made a gesture of 
appeal which the queen checked. 

4 'You are the same age I was," continued the queen, 
gravely, ' ' when I was called to the duties of a queen 
of England. I do not expect you at once to do all 
that your mother was able to do. She was one of the 
rarest flowers of England, I shall not advise you 
about this duty or that in detail. Knowledge will 
come with the every-day requirements of the position. 
But I wish you to carry with you one suggestion from 
me, which I hope you will not forget. You will meet 
many people, my dear, whom you will not understand, 
and many whom you cannot love. Bury the bad in 
people, and always seek for the good. Do this, and 
with the intelligence and good judgment which I am 
sure you have, England will soon honor you as she 
has honored your mother." 

The queen kissed the girl gently upon her forehead, 
and the interview was soon closed. 

It is not hard to understand why the people of Eng- 
land love their queen, when we hear such true inci- 
dents of her life as this. 

Lady Mary went forth with her father to her high 
duties and large opportunities for doing good or ill. 
A recent resident of the empire, who has had every 
social opportunity for acquaintance with the embassa- 
dor's family and with the most exclusive drawing- 
rooms of its capital, lately told the writer that the ca- 
reer of this young girl in embassadorial circles had 
been a remarkable one. The queen's personal advice 

393 



CUMBERED WITB SERVING. 



had evidently done much toward crystalizing a natur 
ally fine character into one of uncommon strength and- 
usefulness. Such an earnest and devout young life in 
diplomatic society made it natural for men and women 
brought into contact with it to be the best, and t o do 
the best. Even the most unpromising attache became 
a better man for meeting her. He had to, for her 
white hands "buried the bad," and kept alive the 

"good" in him. 

Victoria's advice was both queenly and womanly. 
It touched the sources of a royal truth. The christian 
queen knew well the power of a pure, divinely-influ- 
enced life, that seeks in human hearts only that which 

is good and true. Her own life has exemplified it. 



GUMBERED WITH SERVING. 

HE was cumbered with serving; — the household, the board, 
KUli The mea l to be mingled, the feast to be spread, — 
So she could not sit still at the feet of the Lord 
Though her spirit was faint for the heavenly bread. 

She was cumbered with serving ; the quick tones grew sharp ; 

There were lines on her brow, there was grief in her eyes ; 
And no time could she spare for the sweet thrilling harp, 

Or the hymn that should gently as incense arise. 

She was cumbered with serving; she marveled indeed 
That any could rest while the work must be done, 

The work that was pressing, since days with such speed 
Fled on till night and the fall of the sun. 

294 



CUMBERED WITH SERVING. 

She was cumbered with serving ; the dear Lord was there, — 
She could touch Him, could call Him, could bend at his 
knee ; 

Yet this was the whole of her querulous prayer : 

" Oh Master, my sister, wilt Thou bid her help me?" 

Ah ! Martha of Bethany, many there be 

Who are cumbered like thee with earth's service this day. 
And fettered and weary and fretted like thee 

They go to the Master and bitterly pray. 

And some of them, matrons, are tired of steps 

All over the house from morn till the eve, 
And some of them, mothers, are pale to the lips, 

With the tasks they must do, or the tasks they must leave. 

And their comfort it is, when the great tears well up, 
And the soul with endeavor and longing is spent, 

That the Lord has compassion, who sees their life's cup 
So dark with the brewing of hot discontent. 

And his "Cumbered with serving, " although it reprove, 
And stir them with shame, hath a pitiful tone, 

And they hear through its tender reproach the Christ's love 
That never lets slip from its clasping, his own. 

— Margaret E. Sangster. 



Doing, not dreaming, is the secret of success. Think- 
ing out plans will not amount to anything unless the 
thought be followed by a determined will to execute, 



295 



StfiliB 0[7 S0RR0W, 

tHILD of sorrow, murmur not, 
Thy sorrow soon will cease ; 
i Angels are waiting for thy soul 
At that celestial place. 

I know thy burden has been great, 

Thy body sore oppressed, 
But Christ is waiting at the gate 

To call thee to thy rest. 

God wants his jewels bright, 
All polished bright and fine ; 

He will not give one stroke too much, 
His love is all divine. 

"Dear Lord, I murmur not, 

Thy blessed will be done ; 
I know my burden has been great, 

But not like thy dear Son. 

He died that I might live, 
And there with Him abide ; 

O, precious Jesus, Holy name, 
My soul is satisfied. 

I know that I am His, 

He fills my soul with love ; 

I know my name is written there, 
In those bright realms above." . 



296 



THE H1I3BEN TflLENT. 

f HOU wicked and slothful servant," the text, 
-iid then it was lost, what he said next, 
ipl For well I knew the whole of that tale, 
How the master had come, and my heart did quail 
As I thought of my own talent hidden away 
Where it had lain for many a day. 
I had tenderly wrapped, and laid it with care 
Away from my sight, and then, without prayer, 
Had gone on my way, and entirely forgot ; 
Though at the time I intended not 
To leave it so long ; Oh, what if my Master 
Should suddenly come, and my heart beat faster 
As the solemn thought with awful fear 
Came to my mind, perhaps he is near ! 
I knew full well when I laid it down, 
And I little thought I should lose my crown. 
But now I could see with awful force 
The folly of such a foolish course. 
Oh, preachers be true ! The whole truth teach, 
Thou knowest not what heart it may reach. 
God's judgments, and justice, help make up the whole, 
And the faithful watchman delivers his soul. 



WtfflT H M77LE GIRL D^D. 

GOOD many years ago a little girl of twelve 
years of age was passing an old brick prison in 
the city of Chicago, on her way to school, when 
she saw a hand beckoning from behind a cell window 
and heard a voice asking her to please bring him some- 
thing to read. 

297 



A COMMONPLACE CHILD. 



For many weeks after she went to the prison every 
Sunday, carrying the poor prisoner a book to read 
from her father's library. At last one day she was 
called to his death-bed. 

''Little girl," said he, "you have saved my soul ; 
promise me that you will do all your life for the poor 
people in prison what you have done for me." 

The little girl promised, and she kept her promise. 
Linda Gilbert has been all her life the steadfast friend 
of the prisoner. She has established good libraries in 
many prisons, and visited and helped hundreds of 
prisoners; and from the great number whom she has 
helped, six hundred are now, to her certain knowledge, 
leading honest lives. Prisoners from all parts of the 
country know and love her name, and surely the God 
of prisoners must look upon her work with interest. 

And all this because a little girl heard and heeded 
the call to help a suffering soul. 



IjARY'S a commonplace child," they say, 
Praising Roberta, Robert and Ray ; 
1 'Maurice and Ellen are smart as steel ; 

Bertha is handsome, and so is Neal ; 

The baby's a cherub, so sweet an'd mild ! 

But Mary is such a commonplace child ! " 




Yet mirth and brilliancy seldom heed 
A dusty chair or a button's need, 
And beauty oft times wears a frown 

298 



THE PRICE OF A BRINK. 

If given the task of mending a gown ; 

And the mother sighs, in a disheartened way, 

Thinking the children grow worse each day. 

But the freckle-faced girl, who at books is slow, 
Runs upstairs, downstairs, to and fro, 
Dresses the baby, the table sets, 
Washes the dishes and feeds the pets ; 
And mother, resting, from cares beguiled, 
Thanks God for Mary her commonplace child. 

— Emma C. Dowd. 



THE PR1GE 0(7 H W\W- 

flVE cents a glass ! " Does anyone think 
That is really the price of a drink ? 
" Five cents a glass," I heard you say, 
" Why, that isn't very much to pay." 
Ah, no, indeed, 'tis a very small sum 
You are passing over 'twixt finger and thumb, 
And if that were all you gave aw r ay 
It wouldn 't be very much to pay. 

The price of a drink ! let him decide 

Who has lost his courage, and manhood's pride ; 

And lies a groveling heap of clay, 

Not far removed from a beast to-day. 

The price of a drink ! let that one tell 

Who sleeps to-night in a murderer's cell, 

And feels within the fires of hell. 

Honor and virtue, love and truth, 

All the glory and pride of youth, 

Hopes and manhood, the wreath of fame, 

299 



2MB PBICS OF A DBIKK. 

High endeavor and noble aim. 
These are the treasures thrown away 
For the price of a drink from day to day. 

" Five cents a glass ! " How Satan laughed 
As over the bar the young man quaffed 
The beaded liquor, for the demon knew 
The terrible work that drink would do ! 
And before morning the victim lay 
With his life-blood swiftly ebbing away, 
And that was the price he paid, alas ! 
For the pleasure of taking a social glass. 

The price of a drink ! If you care to know 
What some ar . to pay for it, go 

Through that wretched tenement over there, 
With dingy windows and broken stair, 
Where foul disease like a vampire crawls 
With out-stretched wings o 'er the mouldy walls. 

There poverty dwells with her hungry brood 

eyed as demons, for lack of food \ 
There shame, in a corner crouches low ; 
There violence deals its cruel blow ; 
The innocent ones are thus accursed 
To pay the price of this endless thirst. 

" Five cents a glass ! " Oh, if that were all, 
The sacrifice would indeed be small ! 
But the cost in coin is the least amount 
We pay ; and whoever will keep account 
Will learn the terrible waste and blight 
That follows this ruinous appetite. 
"Five cents a glass ! Does any one think 
That this is all one pays for a drink ? " 



300 



fj|||OMEONE remarked in the hearing of Abraham 
til) Lincoln, when he was President of the United 
^ States, that he w r as quite a common-looking man. 
''Friend, "he replied, gently, "the Lord loves common- 
looking people best. That is why he made so many 
of them." We read that the "Common-people" heard 
Jesus gladly. He made his teaching so plain and at- 
tractive to them that the uneducated masses fully un- 
derstood, and appreciated it accordingly. Never, 
however, did the Savior speak of his brothers and sis- 
ters as common-people. He knew not only what was 
in man generally, but what was in each individual. 
He does not think of men in masses and crowds, but 
as individuals, each having a precious soul with joys 
and sorrows ail its own, and a most interesting and 
quite a unique life-history. "What God has cleansed 
call not thou common." If there are any "common 
people" it is the thoughtless ones who use this phrase 
when speaking of others. 



in 



MY GROWN. 

Y crown is in my heart, and not my head ; 
Not decked with diamonds and Indian stones, 
Nor to be seen ; my crown is called content ; 
A crown it is that seldom kings enjoy. 

-Shakespeare. 



301 



WHW 78 TESGH BUR DAUGHTERS. 

>T a social gathering some one proposed this ques- 
tion, "What shall I teach my daughter?" The 
following replies were handed in: 

Teach her that one hundred cents make a dollar. 

Teach her to arrange both parlor and library. 

Teach her to say "no" and mean it, or "yes" and 
stick to it. 

Teach her to wear a calico dress, and wear it like a 
queen. 

Teach her how to sew on buttons, darn stockings 
and mend gloves. 

Teach her to dress for health and comfort as well as 
for appearance. 

Teach her to cultivate flowers and to keep the kitch- 
en garden — combining the useful and ornamental. 

Teach her to make her room the neatest room in the 
house. 

Teach her to have nothing to do with the intemper- 
ate or dissolute young men. 

Teach her that tight-lacing is uncomely, as well as 
injurious to the health. 

Teach her to regard the morals and habits, and not 
money, in selcting her associates. 

Teach her to observe the old rule — "A place for 
everything, and everything in its place." 

Teach her that music, drawing and painting are real 
accomplishments in the home, and are not to be neg- 
lected if there be time and money for their use. 

302 



THET FAILED TO OBSERVE, 

Teach her that a good, steady, church-going me- 
chanic, farmer, clerk or teacher, without a cent, is 
worth more than forty loafers or non-producers in 
broadcloth. 

Teach her to embrace every opportunity for read- 
ing, and to select such books as will give her the 
most useful and practical information in order to make 
the best progress in earlier as well as in later home and 
school life. 

THEY FWIiEB P 0B8ERVE. 

ENTLEMEN, you do not use your faculties of 
observation," said an old professor, addressing 
his class. Here he pushed forward a gallipot con- 
taining a chemical of exceedingly offensive smell. 
"When I was a student," he continued, "I used my 
sense of taste," and with that he dipped his finger in 
the gallipot and then put his finger in his mouth. 
* 'Taste it, gentlemen; taste it," said the professor, 
"and exercise your perceptive faculties." The galli- 
pot was pushed toward the reluctant class, one by one. 
The students resolutely dipped their fingers into the 
concoction, and, with many a wry face, sucked the 
abomination from their fingers. "Gentlemen, gentle- 
men," said the professor, "I must repeat that you do 
not use your faculties of observation, for if you had 
looked more closely at what I was doing, you would 
have seen that the finger I put in my mouth, was not 
the finger I dipped in the gallipot." 

303 



7\ 



PAYING PR MORE FWHt 

ESE words from that much loved man, Philip 
Hf- Brooks, are worthy of serious thought. 

"I hear men praying everywhere for more faith, 
but when I listen to them carefully and get at the real 
heart of their prayer, it is no more faith at all that they 
are wanting, but a change from faith to sight." 

"What shall I do with this sorrow that God has sent 
me?" 

"Take it up and bear it, and get strength and bless- 
ing out of it." 

"Ah, if I only knew what blessing there was in it. 
If I only saw how it would help me, then I could bear 
it." 

"What shall I do with this hard hateful duty which 
Christ has laid right in my way?" 

"Do it, and grow by doing it." 

"Ah, yes, if I could only see that it would make me 
grow." 

In both these cases do you not see that what you 
are begging for is not more faith, although you think 
it is, but sieht. 

You want to see for yourself the blessing in the 
sorrow, the strength in the hard hateful task. 

Faith says not, "I see that it is good for me, and so 
God must have sent it," but "God sent it, and so it 
must be good for me." Faith, walking in the dark 
with God only prays Him to clasp its hand more closely, 
does not even ask Him for the lighting of the dark- 
ness, so that the man may find the way himself. 

3°4 



THE |AOF;TGSGE on THE wnfi. 

IS gone at laj dad : it stayed a fearful 

ile, 
^pO And when the world was H| I could not 

even smil 
It stood before me like a giant, outstretched its ire: inn 
No matter where I looke: the mortgage on the farm. 

I'll tell you how it happened, for I want the world to know 
How glad I am this winter da; earth is white as 

snow ; 
I'm just as happy as a lark. No cause for rude alarm 
Confronts us now, for lifted is the mortgage on the farm. 

The children they were growing up and they were smart 

and trim, 
To some big college in the east we'd sent our youngest, 

Ji::, 
And :ne he wrote to us, at the bottom of his creed 

ne Latin fol-de-rol which none of us could 

read. 

The girls they ran to music, and to painting and to rhymes 
said the house was out of style and far behind the 
aes ; 
They suddenly diskivered that it didn't keep 'em warm — 
Another step, of coun ixd the mortgage on the farm. 



We took a cranky notion, Hannah Jane and me, one day, 
While we were coining home from town, talking all the 
way; 

305 



THE MORTGAGE ON THE FARM. 

The old house wasn't big enough for us, although for years 
Beneath its humble roofnve'd shared each other's joys and 
tears. 

We built it o'er, and when 'twas done, I wish you could 

have seen it, 
It was most a tremendous thing — I really didn't mean it ; 
Why, it was big enough to hold the people of the town, 
And not half as cozy as the old one we pulled down. 

I bought a fine pianner and it shortened still the pile, 

But, then, it pleased the children and they banged it all the 

while ; 
No matter what they played for me, their music had no 

charm, 
For every tune said plainly : "There's a mortgage on the 

farm ! " 

I worked from morn till eve, toiled as often toils the slave, 
To meet the grizzly interest ; I tried hard to be brave, 
And oft when I came home at night, with tired brain and 

arm, 
The chickens hung their heads : they felt the mortgage on 

the farm. 

We. saved a penny now and then ; we laid them in a row, 
The girls played the same old tunes, and let the new ones 

go; 
And when from college came our Jim with laurels on his 

brow, 
I led him to the stumpy field, and put him to the plow. 

He something said in Latin, but I didn't understand. 
It did me good to see his plow turn up the dewy land ; 

306 



GOD'S LOVE. 



And when the year had ended and empty were the cribs, 
We found we'd hit that mortgage, sir, a blow between the 
ribs. 

To-day I harnessed up the team and thundered off to town, 
And in the lawyer's sight I planked the last bright dollar 

down ; 
And when I trotted up the lane a feelin' good and warm, 
The old red rooster crowed his best : "No mortgage on 

the farm !" 

I'll sleep almighty good to-night, the best for many a day, 
The skeleton that haunted us has past fore'er away ; 
The girls can play the brand new tunes with no fears to 

alarm, 
And Jim can go to congress with no mortgage on the farm. 

— T. C. Harbaugh. 



mm Lave, 

TANDING on top of the Cheviot Hills, a little 
son's hand enclosed in his, a father taught the 
measure of the measureless love of God. Point- 
ing northward over Scotland, then southward over 
England, then eastward over the German Ocean, then 
westward over the limitless hill and dale, and then 
sweeping his hand around the whole circling horizon, 
he said: ''Johnny, my boy, God's love is as big as all 
that!" 

"Why, father," the boy cheerily replied, with spark- 
ling eyes, "then we must be in the very middle of it." 



w 



307 



d^DGE HE)?- 

l^iOW do we know what hearts have vilest sin ? 
How do we know ? 
Many, like sepulchers, are foul within, 
Whose outward garb is spotless as the snow 
And many may be pure we think not so. 
How near to God the souls of such have been, 
What mercy secret penitence may win — 
How do we know ? 

How can we tell who sinned more than we ? 
How can we tell ? 

r walked guiltily, 
Judging him in self-righteousness. Ah, well! 
Perhaps had we been driven through the hell 
Of his untold temptations, we might be 

Less upright in our daily walk than he — 
How can we tell ? 

Dare we condemn the ills that others do ? 

Dare we condemn ? 
Their strength is small, their trials not a few, 
The tide of wrong is difficult to stem. 
And if to us more clearly than to them 
Is given knowledge of the great and true, 
More do they neei our help and pity, too- 
Dare we condemn ! 

God help us all and lead us day by day — 

God help us all ! 
We cannot walk alone the perfect way. 
Evil allures us, tempts us, and we fall. 
We are but human, ana our power is small; 
Not one of us may boast, and not a day 
Rolls o'er our heads but each hath need to say 
God bless us all ! 

308 



HE man who is known to be honest, and of sound 
judgment, commands the confidence and resour- 
ces of others. While men will not trust a rogue 
out of their sight, they confide in the integrity of an 
honest, upright man. He may be in debt ; he may 
need to borrow; he may be dependent on the help 
and good will of others; but so long as he will tell the 
truth, and honestly try to fulfill his engagements, his 
character counts for thousands, and is worth to him 
more than silver or gold. 

A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches ; 
and a man who does business year after year prudently, 
honestly, and uprightly, will not often lack for helpers 
in time of need or straits. But the man who, for some 
present advantage condescends to cheating, falsehood 
and rascality, will soon find that for a temporary gain 
he has suffered an irreparable loss. His character 
gone, society watches him as it does a thief, and long 
years may elapse before he can recover from the 
effects of his own suicidal act. 

Young man, old man, be honest, faithful and true, 
and if you have no other wealth, let your character be 
your own capital. 



While a word is yet unspoken you are master of it; 
when once it is spoken it is master of you. 

309 



'HE E)iE?H Blsls TtfWGS WEIst," 

lj|jpES, blessed Lord, thou doest, 
^j#§ Thou doest all things well ; 
^j^ Thou maketh both the deaf to hear, 
The dumb thy goodness tell. 



Unloose our tongues, dear Lord, 

Help us to speak for thee ; 
Help us to speak, and plainly speak 

Of the love that makes us free. 

Open our ears, dear Lord, 

The dullness all remove ; 
May we thy slightest whisper hear, 

The whispers of thy love. 

He doeth all things well, 

Lord, help us to believe, 
That what is best for us to have 

Thou wilt freely give. 

And though we cannot see it now, 

We shall hereafter know 
All that the Lord has done for us, 

It was best it should be so. 

— A. M. Vough. 




310 



THE p0LLY W piiHTTERY. 

[O seek through the flattery of another to win them 
fijUf to friendship, is both unchristian in its religious 
^ phases, and unwise as an attempted stroke of 
worldly policy. It is something like a heart sickening 
and really disgusting fact that some professed chris- 
tions descend to these seriously questioned methods 
which appeal to the pride and vanity of another as a 
means of courting their approval. This is done when 
the gifts and graces of another are over-rated in order 
to enlist his personal favor. To deliberately present 
to another that his abilities are of a high order, and 
that there must, from that fact, be a sublime future be- 
fore him, when, in the judgment of the flatterer, his 
capacities are no higher than the average, is before the 
Lord but bare-faced falsification, prompted by a debas- 
ed and sordid selfishness. Such friends won by such 
falsehood are very sure to prove false. It is well to 
express honest appreciation of merit where there is 
merit, and where there is evident grace to bear the 
commendation, but this unhallowed method of flatter- 
ing conceits into an increase of pride and pomp, when 
their need is the crucifixion of the inordinate ele- 
ments of pride still remaining, is a snare ni which the 
devil befools by twos — the flattered and the flatterer. 



What is really best for us lies always in our reach, 
though often overlooked. 

311 



~V J 



LE7 600 6BN7R0L, 

NEED oil," said an ancient Monk, so he planted 

an olive sapling. 

"Lord," he prayed, "it needs rain that its tender 
roots may drink and swell. Send gentle showers." 
And the Lord sent a gentle shower. 

"Lord," prayed the Monk, "My tree needs sun. 
Send sun, I pray Thee." And the sun shone, gilding 
the dripping clouds. 

"Now frost, my Lord, to brace its tissues," cried 
the Monk. And behold the little tree stood sparkling 
with frost. But at evening it died. Then the Monk 
sought the cell of a brother Monk and told his strange 
experience. 

"I too have planted a little tree," he said, "and see! 
it thrives well. But I entrust my tree to its God. 
He who made it knows better what it needs than a 
man like me. I laid no condition. I fixed not ways 
or means. "Lord send what it needs," I prayed, — 
1 'storm or sunshine, wind, rain, or frost. Thou hast 
made it and Thou dost know." 



THE HISH^V FINISHED fl* 

rIERE are you going with that fine ax my 

boy?" "Going out chopping." "You have 

IrP^n g Qt y 0ur ax j n pretty nice shape?" "Yes, I 

have polished the handle until it is as smooth as glass. 

312 



THE HIGHLY FINISHED AX. 



On one side of the blade you see I have an exquisite 
oil painting. The end of the handle, as you see, is 
exquisitely carved, and all together, I flatter myself I 
have a very highly finished ax," 

1 'Then I suppose you have ground it so that it has 
a fine cutting edge?" 

"N — no — I didn't have time to sharpen it." "But 
how do you expect to cut wood with it, if you havn't 
sharpened it?" "Why, I expect it will wear itself 
sharp." "So it may, but it will wear you out at the 
same time. Why on earth didn't you prepare your ax 
for the use you intended to make of it instead of put- 
ting in so much time polishing and ornamenting it?" 

"Well, if you must know, I prepared my ax for its 
work on the same plan that I prepared myself for my 
work in life." 

"I devoted six years of my life to the study of 
branches that would polish and refine, and when I 
graduated I could call myself an educated idiot in six 
different languages, but I couldn't write legibly, 
couldn't draw up a receipt in proper form, and didn't 
know the first principle in book-keeping." 

"I expect to get some practical ideas pounded into 
me by the hard knocks of experience, but I don't know 
but I made a mistake in not grinding my talents in a 
practical school where, when I graduated I would be 
qualified for the actual work of life. As it is, I am a 
polished, decorated, edgeless ax; but one consolation 
is I've got lots of company, for the world is full of us," 



313 



Has ij. 

.AS the liquor traffic ever built a church, asylum, 
or endowed a college? 
Has it ever set a standard of business character 
which is recognized in banks and counting-rooms? 

Has it ever made a wife happier than she would be 
with a sober husband? 

Has it ever led a youth up into noble manhood? 
Has it ever paid its own way as a revenue returner ? 
Has it ever lessened crimes and criminals? 
No, no! Then has it not been weighed and found 
wanting, and been condemned as a malefactor? 

Dare you sustain such an agency, and claim to be a 
good citizen? 



BE TRUE. 

FRIEND, or foe, or lover, 

Be true ! 
Though none thy faith discover, 
Be true ! 
Though men should mock thee for thy pains 
And wreck thy work and wrest thy gains, 
Be true, be true ! 

'Mid youth's seducing pleasures 

Be true ! 
'Mid 'manhood's golden treasures 

Be true ! 

314 



BE TRUE. 

When age is dulling every sense, 
And tempting to indifference, 
Be true, be true ! 

When all is fair around thee, 

Be true ! 
When health and hope have crowned thee, 

Be true ! 
When quick the pulse and full the life, 
And strength rejoices in the strife, 

Be true, be true ! 

When doubt and dread o'ertake thee, 

Be true ! 
Though all the world forsake thee, 

Be true ! 
Should sickness smite thee in thy bed, 
Or speed thy dearest to the dead, 

Be true, be true ! 

When night is blackest o'er thee, 

Be true ! 
When yawns the grave before thee, 

Be true ! 
When God gleams downward from the height, 
And opens out the infinite, 

Be true, be true ! 

—John Hall Ingram. 



One good act done to-day is worth a thousand in 
contemplation for some future time. 



315 



THE DEVI'S peyR servants. 

HE Devil has a great many servants. They are 
^||- all busy and in all places. Some are so vile 
looking that one instinctively turns from them in 
disgust; but some are so sociable, insinuating and 
plausible, that they almost deceive at times the very 
elect. Among this latter class are to be found the 
Devil's four chief servants. Here are their names: 
' 'There's no Danger!" 
"Only this Once." 
"Everybody Does So." 
"By and By." 

All four are cheats and liars. They mean to de- 
ceive you and cheat you out of Heaven, and they will 
do it if you will listen to them. 



fEAR hath torment," saith the apostle. Some 
christians are paralyzed for life by the mono- 
mania of fear. They fear to pray in public. They 
fear to be singular for right. They are afraid to give 
to the Lord's cause lest they come to want. They fear 
to rebuke a brother for his fault. They fear to con- 
fess Christ before men. They are afraid to leave the 
old church or party that has left the truth. They are 
afraid to espouse a good cause where it is not popu- 

316 



WHAT ILOVJE. 

lar. They fear shadows and fail to secure the sub- 
stance. They are like the invalid afflicted with the 
delusion that he was made of brittle clay, and if struck, 
would snap into fragments. He was cured by a friend 
deliberately upsetting him from his carnage, when he 
arose from the ground sound in mind as well as body. 
The cure for a foolish fear is faith and a forced obedi- 
ence of duty. Just as there is one cure for selfishness 
— self-sacrifice; as there is one cure for spiritual lazi 
ness — work, there is one cure for timidity, and that is 
to plunge into a dissagreeable duty before the ague 
shiver has time to come on. ' 'Whatsoever thy hand 
Sndeth to do, do it with thy might." 



WjrWT i L0VE. 

LOVE the Lord with all my heart ; 
I love to do his will ; 
- I love the gentle voice which says, 
In trouble, " Peace be still." 

I love to walk as Jesus walked, 

Along the narrow way ; 
I love to know his Spirit guides 

My footsteps day by day. 

I love to follow where he leads ; 

I love the truth, the light ; 
I love to bring His kingdom nigh ; 

I love for God to fight. 

3*7 



WHAX I LOVE, 

I love to hear the sinner's cry — 

" Oh Lord my sins forgive ! " 
I love to hear them testify, 

When pardon they receive. 

My life is love ; I'll tell you why, 

Perhaps you think it strange, 
But God is love, He dwells within, 

'Twas He who wrought the change. 

For once I loved the world and sin ; 

I love them now no more ; 
My love is changed to higher things, 

My Savior I adore. 

Oh, ye who live for self and ease, 

There's something nobler far ; 
Come, cast your all at Jesus' feet, 

He'll help you love the war. 

He'll give you grace just as you need ; 

He'll help you all the way ; 
And victory's sure if only you 

Let perfect love have sway. 

—Lucy M. Dews. 



|J|OOD resolutions are often like loosely tied cords 
— on the first strain of temptation they slip. They 
should be tied in a hard knot of prayer. And 
they should be kept tight; tight and firm by constant 
stretching Godward. If they slip, or break, tie them 
again. 

3i8 



MF we have divine life within us we can easily recover 
c\ from all wounds the world can give us. Wear the 
^ skin from your hand and it grows on again, but 
wear a hole in your glove and it needs a patch to cov- 
er it. When christians are killed by persecution it is 
not of ill-treatment they die, but from lack of vitality. 
Christ within us readily repairs all the damage Satan 
can do us from without. Winter strips the trees of 
their beauty; but if they are full of life, spring covers 
them with leaves and blossoms. We may, by false ac- 
cusation, be robbed of reputation and of friends for a 
season ; but if Christ's throne is maintained in our hearts 
his royal courtiers will rally around it again. It does 
not promise an exemption from trials, but victory over 
trials. 

If the heart is weak all the motions are slow. When 
the pulse of the athlete fails, it does not require a blow 
to prostrate him, but he falls of his own weight. 

One who gets inward vigor does not need to be 
urged by others. A little boy, full of life, confined for 
the first time in the school-room, when asked by the 
teacher why he whistled, said, "It whistled itself." 
Have the mind of Christ and you will do the work of 
Christ. When the works of the clock are in order you 
are not obliged every few minutes to put the hands in 
the right place. Take more pains to have the heart 
right with God, and you will have less trouble in keep- 

3*9 



WHAT AW UNHEALTHY BOOK WILL DO. 

ing the life right. "Out of the abundance of the heart 
the mouth speaketh." 

Hate vain thoughts and you will not utter vain 
words. Have tender love for your brethren and yon 
will not hold them up to ridicule. Keep alive to God 
and you will not lay the foundation for repentance 
from dead works. 



WHAT P unhealthy mm WILL 00; 

■OW, I ask why will women buy these books? I 
will not say that they are doing it intentionally; 
most likely it is due to thoughtlessness. But in 
nothing can thoughtlessness work more injury than in 
the selection of books. Our whole natures are mold- 
ed by what we read. Let a woman read books of an 
unhealthy character, and she is bound to be influenced 
by them. No person living ever escaped the memory 
of a bad book. I know a woman who in girlhood read 
a novel in which sin was the predominant characteris- 
tic. Since then she has read hundreds of books by the 
masters of literature, and filled her mind with their 
best and most elevating thoughts. 

But has the impression made by that one book, read 
when she was a girl, ever been effaced ? I quote her 
own words to me: "Although I have lived nearly 
sixty years since I read that book, and have associated 
continually through all that subsequent period with the 
purest minds in literature, I have never been able to 
forget that book. Day after day it comes back to me, 

320 



THE PRESENT NEED, 

and I would give to-day half of my fortune if the im- 
pression left by that story could be removed from my 
mind.'' And in countless hearts will this statement 
find a responsive echo. The mind will oft times throw 
off the impression made by an indecent picture, for in 
art Ave see vice only in outline; but in a book where 
vice is told us in words — our own instrument of ex- 
pression — the impression is lasting, and its influences 
will be felt through generations. 



JflE PRESET flEEB. 

HE crying need of the time is not money, not 
prayer; not preaching, not evangelistic effort; it 
^ J is men, men and women, saturated with the spirit 
of Christ ; not a few, or even a great many, to go out 
as missionaries and evangelists, but men and women 
by the tens of thousands, by the million, to be Chris- 
tians, to open heart and life to the Spirit's grace ; enough 
of them to create an atmosphere absorbing, and retain- 
ing, and diffusing the light and heat streaming from the 
Sun of Righteousness, to carry in every direction by 
innumerable channels of irrigation the Water of Life, 
to take up and distribute the vast unused Niagara force, 
the mighty tidal energy which would accomplish all the 
church's work before this generation passed away. 

—J. Munro Gibson. 






321 



■ 



IF ij DEPENDS M Y0W." 

HASTY glance and our eyes caught these words; 
and they went direct to the heart. For days the 
startling contingency has sounded in every voice, 
and gleamed or glared from every page. 

We have heard a father talking to his children; a 
mother praying for her darlings; a wife pleading for 
an unsaved husband; a pastor for his flock; and again 
for the sinful and erring of his parish, and we have 
said: "If it depends on these, all is well." 

We have-heard a father's careless and profane words, 
accompanied with a sneer at Christ and His love and 
all these in the presence of his son; a mother's giddy 
and foolish talk of society and pleasure; a husband's 
bitter fling of words at the gentle and prayerful wife; a 
pastor's neglect of the sheep of the great Shepherd, 
and disregard of the perishing and dying, and we have 
said: Alas! If it depends on these, how sad is the 
fate of souls. 

We have seen the rumseller and the pastor stand 
side by side at the ballot-box and each go his way. 
Meeting a noble youth we could but say: If it depends 
on that ballot whether you are sober or drunken, how 
sad and uncertain must be your fate. 

Men love money, and lust for power, and plot for 
unholy gain; and if it depends on such as these where 
will the State and nation be a hundred years from 
now? 



322 



M HATE threading needles," said Millicent to herself 
ft as she undressed one night, " and yet grandma is 
^ always wanting me to do it ! I believe she uses 
all these threads on purpose. I wish there were some 
one else besides me to do things. Its Milly here and 
Milly there, all day long." 

The little grumbling girl pulled off her dress with 
vexed fingers, and a button went flying under the chest 
of drawers ; and then, instead of looking for it, she 
turned to the table and began to brush her hair. 

Then her eyes fell upon the text-book, with her 
text for the day, and she started when she thought how 
little she had remembered it : ' ' Whatsoever ye do, do 
it heartily, as unto the Lord ! " 

* 'Threading needles?" she questioned, blushing as 
she remembered how far from heartily she had per- 
formed that little task that dull afternoon. 

" 'As to the Lord!' I never thought of that!" she 
exclaimed. "How could I be so horrid? and grand- 
ma, too! Why, I ought to have done it out of love 
to her, to say nothing of Jesus!" 

She hid her face with her hands. Millicent did love 
Jesus, but, somehow, it was so much easier to please 
herself. 

The next day the little girl stole up to the patient, 
aged one, who had so few pleasures, and, in a little 
gentle voice said: "Grandma, I mean to thread your 
needles ever so nicely to-day." 

323 



PRE88 @N. 

$gRESS on ! surmount the rocky steeps, 
Kg? Climb boldly o'er the torrent's arch : 
He fails alone who feebly creeps. 
He wins who dares a hero's march. 
Be thou a hero ! let thy might 

Tramp on eternal snows its way, 
And, through the ebon wails of night, 
Hew down a passage unto day. 

Press on ! if once and twice thy feet 

Slip back and stumble, harder try ; 
From him wno never dreads to meet 

Danger and death, they'er sure to fly. 
To coward's ranks the bullet speeds, 

While on their breast who never quail, 
Gleams guardian of chivalric deeds, 

Bright courage, like a coat of mail. 

Press on ! if fortune play thee false 

To-day, to-morrow she'll be true ; 
Whom now she sinks, she now exalts, — 

Taking old gifts and granting new, 
The wisdom of the present hour 

Makes up for follies past and gone : 
To weakness strength succeeds, and power 

From frailty springs — press on ! press on ! 

Therefore, press on ! and reach the goal, 

And gain the prize and wear the crown : 
Faint not ! for to the steadfast soul 

Come wealth, and honor, and renown, 
To thine own self be true, and keep 

Thy mind from sloth, thy heart from soil ; 
Press on ! and thou shalt surely reap 

A heavenly harvest for thy toil. 

324 



fOR all that God in mercy sends; 
For health and parents, home and friends, 
For comfort in the time of need, 
For every kindly word and deed, 
For happy thoughts and holy talk, 
For guidance in our daily walk, 
For everything give thanks ! 

For beauty in this world of ours, 
For verdant grass and lovely flowers, 
For songs of birds, and hum of bees, 
For the refreshing summer breeze, 
For hill and plain, for streams and wood, 
For the great ocean's mighty flood, 
In everything give thanks ! 

For the sweet sleep which comes with night, 
For the returning morning's light, 
For the bright sun that shines on high, 
For the stars glittering in the sky, 
For these and everything we see, 
O Lord, our hearts we lift to Thee, 
For everything give thanks ! 

—Ellen Isabell Tupper. 



±*^*< h* +*n*'* ^m , S J *L*%0%S 



Not bad luck, but bad judgment; not ill conditions, 
but ill thinking make life a failure. 



325 




E long for things beyond our reach, 

And waste in sighs and tears 
The golden hours fraught with good 
While listening to our fears. 



We sigh for fame, position, wealth, 

For comfort, and for ease, 
For houses fine adorned with art, 

With every thing to please. 

We long for gold for daily use, 

Enough to satisfy 
Real or imagined wants of ours, 

As day by day goes by. 

We fail to see the sunny lights 

Which glint across our way, 
We see not all the golden rays, 

Which brighten every day. 

We fail to gather of life's sweets 

Because of life's unrest ; 
Forget, we see but dimly now, 

God's ways are always best. 

In every path there's something bright, 

Some joy in every cross ; 
And what poor mortals count as gain, 

Is often greatest loss. 

—Mary B. Carter. 



326 



W0RB8 0f 60UN8EL T8 V0^G 60MVER78. 

jf^ON'T think you have lost all your -*eligion because 
you find you have made a mistake in something, 
w or conclude that God is dead because the sky 
turns black sometimes, 

God is in the storm as much as he is in the sunshine. 
Make up your mind that you are going to believe in 
God always, no matter what happens. No sensible 
man will tear up his railroad ticket because the train 
runs through a tunnel. 

Determine to be a happy christian whether you have 
a cent in your pocket or not. With God's grace it 
won't take much money to make you rich. 

Don't be a wabbling christian. Keep your eye on 
Christ and you won't have a bit of trouble in keeping 
even in your experience. Adopt a platform that will 
mean loyalty to God always and stand on it. 

Get in the habit of feeling what concerns you. 
Keep in the closest, communion with Him by asking 
and trusting Him constantly to manage you. 

Never make a plan and leave God out. Make Him 
first in all your undertakings. If you make a mistake, 
instead of sitting down to cry and fret about it, tell 
God all about it, and ask him to overlook it for good. 

Maintain habits of secret prayer, and pray and 
praise while you work, or rest, or think. Ask God to 
:■ you to love people you don't like. 



327 



1 



;ON'T look for flaws as you go through life; 



And even when you find them, 
||gr It is wise and kind to be somewhat blind, 
And look for the virtue behind them; 
For the cloudiest night has a hint of light 

Somewhere in its shadowy hiding; 
It is better far to hunt for a star, 
Than the spots on the sun abiding. 

The current of life runs every way 

To the bosom of God's great ocean. 
Don't waste your force 'gainst the river's course 

And think to alter its motion. 
Don't waste a curse on the universe — 

Remember, it lived before you. 
Don't butt at the storm with your puny form-— 

But bend and let it go o'er you. 

The world will never adjust itself 

To suit your whims to the letter. 
Some things must go wrong your whole life long, 

And the sooner you know it the better. 
It is folly to fight with the infinite, 

And go under at last in the wrestle. 
The wiser man shapes himself in God's plan 

As the water shapes into a vessel. 

— Ella Wheeler Wilcox. 




$28 



KEEP 87EHBM 0N- 

ATAN never surrenders. We may think he is de- 
feated; the sound of battle may die away, and 
all may seem calm and peaceful, but the enemy 
still lives. When we do not hear the lion's roar it is 
time to guard against the serpent's wiles. In the high 
day of our prosperity he may be planning some sur- 
prise which will result in our overthrow. Our only 
security is constant vigilance, constant fidelity, con- 
stant activity, constant trust. We must watch and 
pray, and fight and pray, and if we do this we have 
the help of Him who said: "I will never leave thee 
nor forsake thee." 

Above all, let us not be diverted from our work. 
Beware of Satan's feints and stratagems. Keep at 
what the Lord has given you to do. Never leave the 
Lord's work to chase the Devil's rabbits. Let them 
run. It is safer than to undertake to follow them. Do 
not stone the Devil's dogs, let them bark; keep in the 
middle of the road and march boldly on. Many things 
which may seem to demand our instant attention are 
possibly only the tricks and devices of the great de- 
ceiver, who chuckles as he turns us from our proper 
work, and proceeds to accomplish his own evil pur- 
poses. If you work the will of God, men will hate 
you. If you fail, they will despise you. If you suc- 
ceed, they will envy you. If you prosper, they will 

329 



QUEEN OB WIFE. 

try to supplant you. Be sober; be vigilant; keep a 
firm hand, and keep steadily on. The dust will clear 
by and by. Lies will die, liars will find their level, 
and the man who keeps steadily on will reach the goal 
at last. 



gUEEN m wipe. 

A PRETTY LITTLE STORY OF VICTORIA'S EARLY MARRIED DAYS. 

I HE marriage of Queen Victoria, then only twenty 
Pfjj years of age, to Prince Albert of Saxe-Gotha, 
^ was, it is well known, a veritable love match, but 
for some years the royal lady found some difficulty in 
reconciling her sense of dignity and her wifely affec- 
tions. The story goes that one day, after a little dis- 
agreement, her majesty having expressed herself in 
rather a despotic tone, the prince, wliose manly self- 
respect was smarting at her words, sought the seclu- 
sion of his own apartments, closing and locking the 
door after him. 

In about five minutes some one knocked at his door, 

' ' Who is it? " inquired the prince. 

" It is I. Open to the Queen of England!" haught- 
ily responded her majesty. 

There was no reply. After a long interval there 
came a gentle tapping, and the low spoken words: 

"It is I, Victoria, your wife " 

And then the door was opened, and the young bride 
was clasped in her husband's arms. 

330 



K BEMEP IN G©0. 

I WILL frankly tell you that my experience in pro- 
longed scientific investigations convince me that 
^ a belief in God — a God that is behind and within the 
chaos of vanishing points of human knowledge — adds 
a wonderful stimulus to the man who attempts to pen- 
etrate into the regions of the unknown. Of myself, I 
may say that I never take the preparations for pene- 
trating into some small province of nature hitherto un- 
discovered, without breathing a prayer to the Being 
who hides his secrets only to allure me graciously on 
to the unfolding of them. 

— Prof. Agassie. 



jm 8Up 2WB THE W1MB. 

Br HE Sun and the Wind laid a wager one day 
Wlflfc Which would take from a man his cloak away. 
«^?J "I've only to blow right strong," said the Wind,, 
"And his cloak will go flying far behind." 

"That trick will not work at all," said the Sun; 
"I know that the wager by me will be won. 
But do your own way, you blust'ring fellow, 
Then I will shine out so warm and yellow, 
I'm sure I will have the best of the joke, 
For quickly the man will drop his old cloak." 

331 



THE SUN AND THE WIND. 

The man jogged along, just humming a song, 
His cloak fast buttoned to keep him warm, 
When, sudden, the Wind blew loud and strong: 
"Whe-ew ! Hello! why, here is a storm !" 
Then closer around him his cloak was drawn — 
Still closer and closer ! With head bent down 
He galloped off fast to the nearest town. 

Then the Sun shone out with its golden smiles; 
And though it's away up — millions of miles — 
Yet it heard the traveler laugh and say: 
"Good horse, don't hurry the rest of the way! 

"We'll take it more easy this lovely day; 
But first let me put this hot cloak away." 
The cloak came off ! And the rest of the ride 
It hung and swung at the horse's side. 

And the Wind hushed down, ashamed to blow, 
But the Sun shone on in a happy glow 
A-singing a song that seemed to say: 
"In a game where it takes the two to play, 
Sunshine gets the better of Wind any day! " 

MORAL. 

So, boys, and girls too, when you find yourself rusty, 
And fretty and fussy and cross-grained and gusty, 
Just remember the tale of the Wind and the Sun, 
The man and the cloak, and the way it was done! 



Talk little of your grievances, or of other's mis- 
doings. 



3-32 




iky, Sir Jacob 113 

Audenried, Nairjean 209 

son 178 

Bray. M. L 133 

Beecher, Henry Ward 138 

Bonar 140 

Bacon, Lord 185 

Brooks, Philip 107-304 

Brown, Theron 234 

Bolton, Sarah K 2^2 

Brown, M. C 

Brine, Mary D 162 

Chalmers, Dr 26 

Cuyler 56 

Crofts, G. W 65 

Coleridge 77 

Charles, E R 97 

Carlyle 

Colson. Ethel M 125 

Coolidge, Susan 13c 



Carter, Emma S 143 

Cooper, George 198 

Charlesworth, A. M 241 

Clymer, Ella D 260 

Carisbrooke, C. T 291 

Carter, Mary B 326 

Cary, Alice 127 

Coyle, Rev. R. F 164 

Doane, W. C 67 

Delp, Daisy M 102 

Downing, Andrew 263 

Dews, Lucy M 317 

Embree, Isaac R 218 

Fowler, Cora M 131 

Farningham, Marianne 187-242 

Flemming, Paul 220 

Field, James T 267 

Franklin 183 

Gold, Grace 59- 166- 170- 178-284-297 

Gilpin 118 

Gibney, Somerville 18 

Gordon, Gen 280 

Havergal, Frances Ridley 15-27-165 

Howard, Clara M 47 

Holmes, O. W 61-105 

Holland, J. G 144 

Harbaugh, T. C 305 

Ingram, John Hall 314 

Kidder, Mrs. M. A 58 

Kenney, M. E 228 

334 



Knowles, Mrs. J. H 381 

Linden, Anna 107 

Longfellow 289 

Larkin, Elizabeth T 96 

Miller, J. R 52 

Marsh, F 86 

Murphy, Marion 86 

Methodist, Sydney 115 

McDonald, George 1 18-123 

Miller, Hugh 139 

Moody, D. L 145 

McCobb, Mary S 236 

McCann, John Ernest 279 

Mountf ord, William 280 

Moore, Margarite C 32 

Neal, John 220 

Pensell, Perry 154 

Rexford, Eben E 109 

Revell, A. H 142 

Robertson, F. W 136 

Ruskin 112 

Spurgeon, Charles 35- 136- 184-2 11 -269-411 

Sloan, W. J 89 

Stetson, Charlotte Perkins 108 

Sangster, Margaret E 128- 140- 18 1-239-294 

Shannon, E. H 130 

Sickles, David B 169 

Stanley, Dean 169 

Scott, A. F 272 

Spaulding, H. G . 276 

335 



Shakespeare 301 

Smith, Fred E 422 

Smart, J. S 435 

Sweeten, Emma V 30 

Taylor, Georgiana 

Tupper, Ellen Isabel 325 

Thaxier, Celia 

Victoria, Queen .21c 

Vough, A. M 310 

Vaughn, Rev. Jas 

Williams, Mrs. E. E ".174 

Wetherby, C. H 188-193 

Wilcox, Ella Wheeler 230-402 

Watson, George D 288 

Whitacre, Marie 15 

Weaver, Mrs. Nellie Meanrs 

Willard, Frances 25 : 



336 



FEB 15 1900 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: Dec. 2004 

PreservationTechnologies 

A WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVATION 

1 1 1 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township, PA 16066 
(724)779-2111 



